THE }-I.AllVA,RD CLASSICS 



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THE HARVARD CLASSICS 

EDITED BY CHARLES W ELIOT LLD 



ESSAYS, CIVIL AND MORAL 

AND 

THE NEW ATLANTIS 

BY FRANCIS BACON 

AREOPAGITICA 

AND 

TRACTATE ON EDUCATION 

BY JOHN MILTON 

RELIGIO MEDICI 

BY SIR THOMAS BROWNE 

WITH INTRODUCTIONS, NOTES 
AND ILLUSTRATIONS 




P F COLLIER & SON 
NEW YORK 



Copyright, 1909 
By p. F. Collier & Son 






iUL 29 1909 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

Essays or Counsels — Civiiv and Moral 7 

I. Of Truth 7' 

II. Of Death 9 

III. Of Unity in Religion ii 

IV. Of Revenge 15 

V. Of Adversity . . , 16 

VI. Of Simulation and Dissimulation. 17 

VII. Of Parents and Children 20 

VIII. Of Marriage and Single Life 22 ■ 

IX. Of Envy 23 

X. Of Love . 28' 

XI. Of Great Place 29. 

XII. Of Boldness 33 

XIII. Of Goodness and Goodness of Nature 34 , 

XIV. Of Nobility 36' 

XV. Of Seditions and Troubles 38 

XVI. Of Atheism 44 

XVII. Of Superstition 47 

XVIII. Of Travel 48 

XIX. Of Empire . 50 

XX. Of Counsel 55, 

XXI. Of Delays 59 

XXII. Of Cunning 60 < 

XXIII. Of Wisdom for a Man's Self 63 

XXIV. Of Innovations 65 

XXV. Of Dispatch 66 

XXVI. Of Seeming Wise (,j 

XXVII. Of Friendship 69^ 

XXVIII. Of Expense 75 

XXIX. Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms and Estates . . 76 

XXX. Of Regiment of Health 85 • 

-. XXXI. Of Suspicion 86 

XXXII. Of Discourse 87. 

XXXIII. Of Plantations 89 

XXXIV. Of Riches 92, 

XXXV. Of Prophecies 95 

XXXVI. Of Ambition 98- 

1 



2 CONTENTS 

PAGE 

XXXVII. Of Masques and Triumphs lOO 

XXXVIII. Of Nature in Men ... loi 

XXXIX. Of Custom and Education 103 

XL. Of Fortune 104 

XLI. Of Usury ... .106 

XLII. Of Youth and Age no 

XLIII. Of Beauty .111 

XLIV. Of Deformity 112 

XLV. Of Building 114 

XLVI. Of Gardens 117 

XL VII. Of Negotiating 123 

XLVIII. Of Followers and Friends ... 125 

XLIX. Of Suitors 126 

L. Of Studies .128' 

LI. Of Faction 129 

LII. Of Ceremonies and Aspects ......... 131 

LIII. Of Praise 132- 

LIV. Of Vain-glory ....... .... 134 

LV. Of Honor and Reputation 135 

LVI. Of Judicature 137 

LVII. Of Anger 141 

LVIII. Of Vicissitude of Things 143 

LIX. Of Fame 147- 

The New Atlantis 151 

Areopagitica 193 

Order of the Long Parliament for the Regulating of Printing, 

14 June, 1643 195 

A Speech for the Liberty of Unlicensed Printing 199 

Milton's Tractate on Education 245 

Religio Medici 261 

The First Part 265 

The Second Part 3^4 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 

Francis Bacon, son of Sir Nicholas Bacon, Lord Keeper of 
the Great Seal to Queen Elizabeth, was horn in London on 
January 22, 1561. He entered Trinity College, Cambridge, at the 
age of twelve, and in 1576 he interrupted the law studies he had 
begun in that year, to go to France in the train of the English 
Ambassador, Sir Amyas Paulet. He was called home in 1579 by 
the death of his father; and, having been left with but a small 
income, he resumed the study of law, and became a barrister in 
1582. Two years later he entered the House of Commons, and 
began to take an active part in politics. 

From an early age Bacon had been interested in science, and 
it was in the pursuit of scientific truth that his heart lay. He 
conceived, however, that for the achievement of the great re- 
sults at which he aimed, money and prestige were necessary; 
and he worked hard for both. He was a candidate for several 
oMces of state during Elizabeth's reign, but gained no substantial 
promotion, and was often in hard straits for money. He re- 
ceived aid from influential patrons, notably the Earl of Essex; 
and his desertion of this nobleman, with the part he took in his 
prosecution for treason, is regarded as one of the chief blots on 
his personal record. 

Shortly after the accession of James I, Bacon was knighted; in 
1606 he married the daughter of an alderman; and in the follow- 
ing year he received the appointment of Solicitor-General, the 
first important step in the career which culminated in the Lord 
Chancellorship in 1618. In the latter year he was raised to the 
peerage as Baron Verulam, and in 1621 he became Viscount St. 
Albans. He was now at the summit of his public career; but 
within four months the crash came, and he was convicted of 
bribery, and sentenced by the House of Lords to the loss of all 
his offices, to imprisonment, and to the payment of a large fine. 
He died in retirement on April 9, 1626, leaving no children. 

Bacon's most important writings in science and philosophy 
are parts of a vast work which he left unfinished, his "Magna 
Jnstauratio." The first part of this, the "De Augmentis," is an 
enlargement in Latin of his book on "The Advancement of 

3 



SSS!S& 



4 INTRODUCTORY NOTE 

Learning," in which he takes account of the progress in human 
knowledge to his own day. The second part is the famous 
"Novum Organum," or "New Instrument" ; a description of the 
method of induction based on observation and experiment, by 
which he believed future progress was to be made. The later 
parts consist chiefly of fragmentary collections of natural phe- 
nomena, and tentative suggestions of the philosophy which was 
to result from the application of his method to the facts of the 
physical world. 

Bacon's own experiments are of slight scientific value, nor was 
he very familiar with some of the most important discoveries of 
his own day; but the fundamental principles laid down by him 
form the foundation of modern scientific method. 

Bacon's writings are by no means confined to the field of 
natural philosophy. He wrote a notable "History of Henry 
VH" ; many pamphlets on current political topics; "The New 
Atlantis," an unfinished account of an ideal state; "The Wis- 
dom of the Ancients," a series of interpretations of classical 
myths in an allegorical sense; legal "Maxims" ; and much else. 

But by far his most popular work is his "Essays," published 
in three editions in his lifetime, the first containing ten essays, 
in 1597; the second, with thirty-eight, in 1612; and the third, 
as here printed, in 1625. These richly condensed utterances on 
men and affairs show in the field of conduct something of the 
same stress on the useful and the expedient as appears in his 
scientific work. But it is unjust to regard the "Essays" as rep^ 
resenting Bacon's ideal of conduct. They are rather a collec- 
tion of shrewd observations as to how, in fact, men do get on 
in life; human nature, not as it ought to be, but as it is. Some- 
times, but by no means always, they consider certain kinds of 
behavior from a moral standpoint; oftener they are frankly 
pieces of worldly wisdom; again, they show Bacon's ideas of 
state policy; still again, as in the essay "Of Gardens," they 
show us his private enthusiasms. They cover an immense va- 
riety of topics; they are written in a clear, concise, at times almost 
epigrammatic, style; they are packed with matter; and now, as 
when he wrote them, they, to use his own words of them, "come 
home to men's business and bosoms." 



THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY 

To the Right Honorable my very good Lo. the Duke of 
Buckingham his Grace, Lo. High Admiral of England. 

Excellent Lo. 

Solomon says, A good name is as a precious ointment; and I 
assure myself, such will your Grace's name be with posterity. 
For your fortune and merit both have been eminent. And you 
have planted things that are like to last. I do now publish my 
Essays; which, of all my other works, have been most current; 
for that, as it seems, they come home to men's business and 
bosoms. I have enlarged them both in number and weight ; so 
that they are indeed a new work. I thought it therefore agree- 
able to my affection and obligation to your Grace, to prefix your 
name before them, both in English and in Latin. For I do con- 
ceive that the Latin volume of them (being in the universal 
language) may last as long as books last. My Instauration I 
dedicated to the King ; my History of Henry the Seventh (which 
I have now also translated into Latin), and my portions of 
Natural History, to the Prince; and these I dedicate to your 
Grace ; being of the best fruits that by the good increase which 
God gives to my pen and labors I could yield. God lead your 
Grace by the hand. 

Your Grace's most obliged and 
faithful servant, 

Fr. St. Alban. • 



HCIII 



ESSAYS OR COUNSELS 

CIVIL AND MORAL 



I 

OF TRUTH 

TT T^HAT is truth f said jesting Pilate, and would not 
l/L/ stay for an answer. Certainly there be that de- 
light in giddiness, and count it a bondage to fix 
a belief; affecting^ free-will in thinking, as well as in acting. 
And though the sects of philosophers of that kind^ be gone, 
yet there remain certain discoursing^ wits which are of 
the same veins, though there be not so much blood in them 
as was in those of the ancients. But it is not only the diffi- 
culty and labor which men take in finding out of truth, nor 
again that when it is found it imposeth upon* men's thoughts, 
that doth bring lies in favor; but a natural though corrupt 
love of the lie itself. One of the later school^ of the Grecians 
examineth the matter and is at a stand to think what should 
be in it, that men should love lies, where neither they make 
for pleasure, as with poets, nor for advantage, as with the 
merchant ; but for the lie's sake. But I cannot tell ; this same 
truth is a naked and open day-light, that doth not show the 
masks and mummeries and triumphs of the world, half so 
stately and daintily as candle-lights. Truth may perhaps 
come to the price of a pearl, that showeth best by day; but 
it will not rise to the price of a diamond or carbuncle, that 
showeth best in varied lights. A mixture of a lie doth ever 
add pleasure. Doth any man doubt, that if there were taken 
out of men's minds vain opinions, flattering hopes, false valu- 
ations, imaginations as one would, and the like, but it would 

1 Loving. 2 The Skeptics. ^ Latin, windy and rambling. 

* Restricts. ^ Lucian. 



8 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

leave the minds of a number of men poor shrunken things, 
full of melancholy and indisposition, and unpleasing to them- 
selves ? 

One of the fathers, in great severity, called poesy vinum 
dcsmonum [devils'-wine], because it filleth the imagination; 
and yet it is but with the shadow of a lie. But it is not 
the lie that passeth through the mind, but the lie that 
sinketh in and settleth in it, that doth the hurt; such as we 
spake of before. But howsoever these things are thus in men*s 
depraved judgments and affections, yet truth, which only 
doth judge itself, teacheth that the inquiry of truth, which 
is the love-making or wooing of it, the knowledge of truth, 
which is the presence of it, and the belief of truth, which 
is the enjoying of it, is the sovereign good of human nature. 
The first creature of God, in the works of the days, was 
the light of the sense; the last was the light of reason; and 
his sabbath work ever since is the illumination of his Spirit. 
First he breathed light upon the face of the matter or chaos ; 
then he breathed light into the face of man; and still he 
breatheth and inspireth light into the face of his chosen. 
The poet^ that beautified the sect^ that was otherwise in- 
ferior to the rest, saith yet excellently well : It is a pleasure 
to stand upon the shore and to see ships tossed upon the sea; 
a pleasure to stand in the window of a castle and to see a 
battle and the adventures thereof below: but no pleasure 
is comparable to the standing upon the vantage ground of 
truth (a hill not to be commanded, and where the air is 
always clear and serene), and to see the errors and wan- 
derings and mists and tempests in the vale below; so always 
that this prospect be with pity, and not with swelling or 
pride. Certainly, it is heaven upon earth, to have a man's 
mind move in charity, rest in providence, and turn upon the 
poles of truth. 

To pass from theological and philosophical truth to the 
truth of civil business ; it will be acknowledged even by those 
that practise it not, that clear and round dealing is the 
honor of man's nature; and that mixture of falsehood is like 
alloy in coin of gold and silver, which may make the metal 
work the better, but it embaseth it. For these winding and 
" Lucretius. ^ Epicureans. 



OF DEATH 9 

crooked courses are the goings of the serpent; which goeth 
basely upon the belly, and not upon the feet. There is no 
vice that doth so cover a man with shame as to be found 
false and perfidious. And therefore Montaigne saith prettily, 
when he inquired the reason why the word of the lie should 
be such a disgrace and such an odious charge. Saith he, 
// it be we'll weighed, to say that a man lieth, is as much to 
say, as that he is brave towards God and a coward tozuards 
men. For a lie faces God, and shrinks from man. Surely 
the wickedness of falsehood and breach of faith cannot 
possibly be so highly expressed, as in that it shall be the last 
peal to call the judgments of God upon the generations of 
men ; it being foretold that when Christ cometh, he shall not 
and faith upon the earth. 



II 

OF DEATH 

Men fear death, as children fear to go in the dark; and 
as that natural fear in children is increased with tales, so 
is the other. Certainly, the contemplation of death, as the 
wages of sin and passage to another world, is holy and 
religious; but the fear of it, as a tribute due unto nature, 
is weak. Yet in religious meditations there is sometimes 
mixture of vanity and of superstition. You shall read in 
some of the friars' books of mortification, that a man 
should think with himself what the pain is if he have but 
his finger's end pressed or tortured, and thereby imagine 
what the pains of death are, when the whole body is cor- 
rupted and dissolved; when many times death passeth with 
less pain than the torture of a limb ; for the most vital parts 
are not the quickest of sense. And by him that spake^ only 
as a philosopher and natural man, it was well said, Pompa 
mortis magis terret, quam mors ipsa [It is the accompani- 
ments of death that are frightful rather than death itself]. 
Groans and convulsions, and a discolored face, and friends 
weeping, and blacks,^ and obsequies, and the like, show death 
terrible. It is worthy the observing, that there is no passion 
1 Seneca. ^ Mourning garments. 



10 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

in the mind of man so weak, but it mates^ and masters the 
fear of death ; and therefore death is no such terrible enemy 
when a man hath so many attendants about him that can 
win the combat of him. Revenge triumphs over death; love 
slights it; honor aspireth to it; grief flieth to it; fear pre- 
occupateth* it; nay, we read,^ after Otho the emperor had 
slain himself, pity (which is the tenderest of affections) pro- 
voked many to die, out of mere compassion to their sov- 
ereign, and as the truest sort of followers. Nay, Seneca 
adds niceness® and satiety: Cogita quamdiu eadem feceris; 
mori velle, non tantum fortis aut miser, sed etiam fastidiosus 
potest [Think how long thou hast done the same thing; not 
only a valiant man or a miserable man, but also a fastidious 
man is able to wish for death]. A man would die, though 
he were neither valiant nor miserable, only upon a weariness 
to do the same thing so oft over and over. It is no^ less 
worthy to observe, how little alteration in good spirits the 
approaches of death make; for they appear to be the same 
men till the last instant. Augustus Caesar died in a compli- 
ment; Livia, conjugii nostri memor, vive et vale [Farewell, 
Livia; and forget not the days of our marriage]. Tiberius 
in dissimulation ; as Tacitus saith of him, Jam Tiberium vires 
et corpus, non dissimulatio, deserebant [His powers of 
body were gone, but his power of dissimulation still re-- 
mained]. Vespasian in a jest, sitting upon the stool; Ut 
puto deus Ho [As I think, I am becoming a god]. Galba 
with a sentence; Feri, si ex re sit populi Romani [Strike, if 
it be for the good of Rome] ; holding forth his neck. Sep- 
timius Severus in despatch; Adeste si quid mihi restat agen- 
dum [Be at hand, if there is anything more for me to do]. 
And the like. Certainly the Stoics bestowed too much cost 
upon death, and by their great preparations made it appear 
more fearful. Better saith he,' qui iinem vitce extremum 
inter munera ponat naturce [who accounts the close of life 
as one of the benefits of nature]. It is as natural to die as 
to be born; and to a little infant, perhaps, the one is as 
painful as the other. He that dies in an earnest pursuit, is 
like one that is wounded in hot blood; who, for the time, 

^ Conquers. * Anticipates. ^ In Plutarch's " Lives." 

* Fastidiousness. ' Juvenal. 



OF UNITY IN RELIGION ll 

scarce feels the hurt; and therefore a mind fixed and bent 
upon somewhat that is good doth avert the dolers of death. 
But, above all, believe it, the sweetest canticle is. Nunc 
dimittis [Now lettest thou . . . depart] ; when a man hath 
obtained worthy ends and expectations. Death hath this 
als*o ; that it openeth the gate to good fame, and extinguisheth 
envy. Extinctiis amabitur idem [The same man that was 
envied while he Hved, shall be loved when he is gone]. 



Ill 

OF UNITY IN RELIGION 

Religion being the chief band of human society, it is a 
happy thing when itself is well contained within the true 
band of unity. The quarrels and divisions about religion 
were evils unknown to the heathen. The reason was be- 
cause the religion of the heathen consisted rather in rites 
and ceremonies than in any constant belief. For you may 
imagine what kind of faith theirs was, when the chief 
doctors and fathers of their church were the poets. But 
the true God hath this attribute, that he is a jealous God; 
and therefore his worship and religion will endure no 
mixture nor partner. We shall therefore speak a few 
words concerning the unity of the church; what are the 
fruits thereof; what the bounds; and what the means. 

The fruits of unity (next unto the well pleasing of God, 
which is all in all) are two: the one towards those that are 
without the church, the other towards those that are within. 
For the former ; it is certain that heresies and schisms are of 
all others the greatest scandals; yea, more than corruption 
of manners. For as in the natural body a wound or solution 
of continuity is worse than a corrupt humor ; so in the spir- 
itual. So that nothing doth so much keep men out of the 
church, and drive men out of the church, as breach of 
unity. And therefore, whensoever it cometh to that pass, 
that one saith Ecce in desert o [Lo ! in the desert], another 
saith Ecce in penetralibus^ [Lo ! in the sanctuary] ; that is, 

* Matthew xxiv. 26. 



12 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

when some men seek Christ in the conventicles of heretics, 
and others in an outward face of a church, that voice had 
need continually to sound in men's ears, Nolite exire^ — Go 
not out. The doctor of the Gentiles^ (the propriety of 
whose vocation drew him to have a special care of those 
without) saith, // an heathen come in, and hear you spedk 
with several tongues, will he not say that you are mad? 
And certainly it is little better, when atheists and profane 
persons do hear of so many discordant and contrary opinions 
in religion ; it doth avert them from the church, and maketh 
them to sit down in the chair of the scorners. It is but a 
light thing to be vouched in so serious a matter, but yet it 
expresseth well the deformity. There is a master of scoffing,^ 
that in his catalogue of books of a feigned library sets down 
this title of a book, The Morris-Dance of Heretics. For 
indeed every sect of them hath a diverse posture or cringe 
by themselves, which cannot but move derision in worldlings 
and depraved politics,* who are apt to contemn holy things. 

As for the fruit towards those that are within ; it is peace ; 
which containeth infinite blessings. It establisheth faith; it 
kindleth charity; the outward peace of the church distilleth 
into peace of conscience ; and it turneth the labors of writing 
and reading of controversies into treaties^ of mortification 
and devotion. 

Concerning the bounds of unity; the true placing of them 
importeth exceedingly. There appear to be two extremes. 
For to certain zealants^ all speech of pacification is odious. 
Is it peace, Jehuf What hast thou to do with peace? turn 
thee behind me.'' Peace is not the matter, but following and 
party. Contrariwise, certain Laodiceans and lukewarm per- 
sons think they may accommodate points of religion by 
middle ways, and taking part of both, and witty^ reconcile- 
ments; as if they would make an arbitrament between God 
and man. Both these extremes are to be avoided; which 
will be done, if the league of Christians penned by our Savior 
himself were in the two cross clauses thereof soundly and 
plainly expounded : He that is not with us is against us; and 
again, He that is not against us is with us; that is, if the 

1 Matthew xxiv. 26. ^ St. Paul. ' Rabelais. ■• Politicians. 
' Treatises. ^ Zealots. '" 2 Kings ix. 18, 19. * Ingenious. 



OF UNITY IN RELIGION 13 

points fundamental and of substance in religion were truly- 
discerned and distinguished from points not merely of faith, 
but of opinion, order, or good intention. This is a thing may 
seem to many a matter trivial,* and done already. But if it 
were done less partially, it would be embraced more gen- 
erally. 

Of this I may give only this advice, according to my small 
model. Men ought to take heed of rending God's church 
by two kinds of controversies. The one is, when the matter 
of the point controverted is too small and light, not worth 
the heat and strife about it, kindled only by contradiction. 
For as it is noted by one of the fathers, Christ's coat indeed 
had no seam, hut the church's vesture zvas of divers colors; 
whereupon he saith, hi veste varietas sit, scissura non sit^*^ 
[Let there be variety in the garment, but let there be no 
division] ; they be two things, unity and uniformity. The 
other is, when the matter of the point controverted is great, 
but it is driven to an over-great subtilty and obscurity; so 
that it becometh a thing rather ingenious than substantial. 
A man that is of judgment and understanding shall some- 
times hear ignorant men differ, and know well within himself 
that those which so differ mean one thing, and yet they them- 
selves would never agree. And if it come so to pass in that 
distance of judgment which is between man and man, shall 
we not think that God above, that knows the heart, doth 
not discern that frail men in some of their contradictions 
intend the same thing; and accepteth of both? The nature 
of such controversies is excellently expressed by St. Paul 
in the warning and precept" that he giveth concerning the 
same, Devita profanas vociim novitates, et oppositiones falsi 
nominis scientice [Avoid profane novelties of terms, and 
oppositions of science falsely so called]. Men create op- 
positions which are not; and put them into new terms so 
fixed, as whereas the meaning ought to govern the term, the 
term in effect governeth the meaning. There be also two 
false peaces or unities : the one, when the peace is grounded 
but upon an implicit" ignorance; for all colors will agree 
in the dark: the other, when it is pieced up upon a direct 
admission of contraries in fundamental points. For truth 

* Commonplace, lo St. Augustine. n Entangled. 



14 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

and falsehood, in such things, are like the iron and clay in 
the toes of Nebuchadnezzar's image; they may cleave, but 
they will not incorporate. 

Concerning the means of procuring unity; men must be- 
ware, that in the procuring or muniting^^ of religious unity 
they do not dissolve and deface the laws of charity and of 
human society. There be two swords amongst Christians, 
the spiritual and temporal ; and both have their due office 
and place in the maintenance of religion. But we may not 
take up the third sword, which is Mahomet's sword, or 
like unto it; that is, to propagate religion by wars or by 
sanguinary persecutions to force consciences; except it be 
in cases of overt scandal, blasphemy, or intermixture of 
practice" against the state; much less to nourish seditions; 
to authorize conspiracies and rebellions ; to put the sword into 
the people's hands; and the like; tending to the subversion 
of all government, which is the ordinance of God. For this 
is but to dash the first table" against the second; and so 
to consider men as Christians, as we forget that they are 
men. Lucretius the poet, when he beheld the act of Aga- 
memnon, that could endure the sacrificing of his own 
daughter, exclaimed: 

" Tantum Religio potuit suadere malorum " 

[To such ill actions Religion could persuade a man]. What 
would he have said, if he had known of the massacre in 
France,^" or the powder treason of England? He would 
have been seven* times more Epicure and atheist than he was. 
For as the temporal sword is to be drawn with great circum- 
spection in cases of religion ; so it is a thing monstrous to put 
it into the hands of the common people. Let that be left 
unto the Anabaptists, and other furies. It was great blas- 
phemy when the devil said, / will ascend and be like the 
Highest; but it is greater blasphemy to personate God, and 
bring him in saying, / will descend^ and he like the prince 
of darkness: and what is better, to make the cause of religion 
to descend to the cruel and execrable actions of murthering 
princes, butchery of people, and subversion of states and 

^ Fortifying. ^^ Plotting. i* Of the commandments. Exodus xxxii. 

15, 16; xxxiv. 1-5, 29. 15 On St. Bartholomew's Day, 1572. 



OF REVENGE 15 

governments? Surely this is to bring down the Holy Ghost, 
instead of the likeness of a dove, in the shape of a vulture 
or raven ; and set out of the bark of a Christian church 
a flag of a bark of pirates and assassins. Therefore it is 
most necessary that the church by doctrine and decree, 
princes by their sword, and all learnings, both Christian and 
moral, as by their Mercury rod,^*^ do damn and send to hell 
for ever those facts" and opinions tending to the support 
of the same ; as hath been already in good part done. Surely 
in counsels concerning religion, that counsel of the apostle^® 
would be prefixed, Ira hominis non implet justitiam Dei 
[The wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God]. 
And it was a notable observation of a wise father, and no 
less ingenuously confessed; that those zvhich held and per- 
suaded pressure of consciences, were commonly interessed 
therein themselves for their own ends. 



IV 

OF REVENGE 

Revenge is a kind of wild justice; which the more man's 
nature runs to, the more ought law to weed it out. For 
as for the first wrong, it doth but offend the law; but the 
revenge of that wrong putteth the law out of office. Cer- 
tainly, in taking revenge, a man is but even with his enemy ; 
but ill passing it over, he is superior; for it is a prince's 
part to pardon. And Solomon, I am sure, saith, It is the 
glory of a man to pass by an offence. That which is past 
is gone, and irrevocable; and wise men have enough to do 
with things present and to come ; therefore they do but trifle 
with themselves, that labor in past matters. There is no man 
doth a wrong for the wrong's sake; but thereby to purchase 
himself profit, or pleasure, or honor, or the like. Therefore 
why should I be angry#with a man for loving himself better 
than me? And if any man should do wrong merely out of 
ill-nature, why, yet it is but like the thorn or briar, which 

" With vrhich Mercury summoned souls to the other world. 
" Deeds. ^s St. James. 



16 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

prick and scratch, because they can do no other. The most 
tolerable sort of revenge is for those wrongs which there 
is no law to remedy; but then let a man take heed the 
revenge be such as there is no law to punish; else a man's 
enemy is still before hand, and it is two for one. Some, 
when they take revenge, are desirous the party should know 
whence it cometh. This is the more generous. For the 
delight seemeth to be not^ so much in doing the hurt as in 
making the party repent. But base and crafty cowards are 
like the arrow that flieth in the dark. Cosmus, duke of 
Florence, had a desperate saying against perfidious or neg- 
lecting friends, as if those wrongs were unpardonable; You 
shall read (saith he) that we are commanded to forgive our 
enemies; hut you never read that we are commanded to for- 
give our friends. But yet the spirit of Job was in a better 
tune: Shall we (saith he) take good at God's hands, and not 
he content to take evil also? And so of friends in a pro- 
portion. This is certain, that a man that studieth revenge 
keeps his own wounds green, which otherwise would heal 
and do well. Public revenges are for the most part for- 
tunate ; as that for the death of Caesar ; for the death of Per- 
tinax ; for the death of Henry the Third of France ; and many 
more. But in private revenges it is not so. Nay rather, 
vindictive persons live the life of witches; who, as they 
are mischievous, so end they infortunate. 



V 

OF ADVERSITY 

It was a high speech of Seneca (after the manner of the 
Stoics), that the good things which helong to prosperity are 
to he wished; hut the good things that helong to adversity 
are to he admired. Bona rerum secundarum optabilia; adver- 
sarum mirahilia. Certainly if miracles be the command over 
nature, they appear most in adversity. It is yet a higher 
speech of his than the other (much too high for a heathen), 
It is true greatness to have in one the frailty of a man, and 
the security of a God. Vere magnum habere fragilitatem 



OF SIMULATION AND DISSIMULATION 17 

hominis, sccuritatcm Dei. This would have done better in 
poesy, where transcendences are more allowed. And the poets 
indeed have been busy with it; for it is in effect the thing 
which figured in that strange fiction of the ancient poets, 
which seemeth not to be without mystery; nay, and to have 
some approach to the state of a Christian; that Hercules, 
when he ivent to unbind Prometheus (by whom human nature 
is represented), sailed the length of the great ocean in an 
earthen pot or pitcher: lively describing Christian resolution, 
that saileth in the frail bark of the flesh through the waves 
of the world. But to speak in a mean.^ The virtue of pros- 
perity is temperance; the virtue of adversity is fortitude; 
which in morals is the more heroical virtue. Prosperity is 
the blessing of the Old Testament ; adversity is the blessing 
of the New ; which carrieth the greater benediction, and the 
clearer revelation of God's favor. Yet even in the Old 
Testament, if you listen to David's harp, you shall hear as 
many hearse-like airs as carols; and the pencil of the Holy 
Ghost hath labored more in describing the afflictions of Job 
that the felicities of Solomon. Prosperity is not without 
many fears and distastes; and adversity is not without com- 
forts and hopes. We see in needle-works and embroideries, 
it is more pleasing to have a lively work upon a sad^ and 
solemn ground, than to have a dark and melancholy work 
upon a Hghtsome ground: judge therefore of the pleasure 
of the heart by the pleasure of the eye. Certainly virtue 
is like precious odors, most fragrant when they are incensed 
or crushed: for prosperity doth best discover' vice, but ad- 
versity doth best discover virtue. 



VI 

OF SIMULATION AND DISSIMULATION 

Dissimulation is but a faint kind of policy or wisdom; 
for it asketli a strong wit and a strong heart to know when 
to tell truth, and to do it. Therefore it is the weaker sort 
of politics that are the great dissemblers. 

1 In moderation. ' Dark-colored. ^ Display. 



18 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

Tacitus saith, Livia sorted well with the arts of her husband 
and dissimulation of her son; attributing arts or policy to 
Augustus, and dissimulation to Tiberus. And again, when 
Mucianus encourageth Vespasian to take arms against Vitel- 
lius, he saith. We rise not against the piercing judgment of 
Augustus, nor the extreme caution or closeness of Tiberius. 
These properties, of arts or policy and dissimulation or close- 
ness, are indeed habits and faculties several, and to be distin- 
guished. For if a man have that penetration of judgment 
as he can discern what things are to be laid open, and what 
to be secreted, and what to be showed at half lights, and 
to whom and when (which indeed are arts of state and arts 
of life, as- Tacitus well calleth them), to him a habit of dis- 
simulation is a hinderance and a poorness. But if a man 
cannot obtain to that judgment, then it is left to him gener- 
ally to be close, and a dissembler. For where a man cannot 
choose or vary in particulars, there it is good to take the 
safest and wariest way in general; like the going softly 
by one that cannot well see. Certainly the ablest men that 
ever were have had all an openness and frankness of dealing; 
and a name of certainty and veracity ; but then they were like 
horses well managed f for they could tell passing well when to 
stop or turn; and at such times when they thought the case 
indeed required dissimulation, if then they Used it, it came 
to pass that the former opinion spread abroad of their good 
faith and clearness of dealing made them almost invisible. 

There be three degrees of this hiding and veiling of a man's 
self. The first, closeness, reservation, and secrecy ; when a man 
leaveth himself without observation, or without hold to be 
taken, what he is. The second, dissimulation, in the neg- 
ative; when a man lets fall signs and arguments, that he is 
not that he is. And the third, simulation, in the affirmative ; 
when a man industriously and expressly feigns and pretends 
to be that he is not. 

For the first of these, secrecy; it is indeed the virtue of a 
confessor. And assuredly the secret man heareth many con- 
fessions. For who will open himself to a blab or a babbler? 
But if a man be thought secret, it inviteth discovery; as the 
more close air sucketh in the more open ; and as in confession 

1 Trained. 



OF SIMULATION AND DISSIMULATION 19 

the revealing is not for worldly use, but for the ease of a 
man's heart, so secret men come to the knowledge of many- 
things in that kind; while men rather discharge their minds 
than impart their minds. In few words, mysteries are due 
to secrecy. Besides (to say truth) nakedness is uncomely, 
as well in mind as body; and it addeth no small reverence 
to men's manners and actions, if they be not altogether open. 
As for talkers and futile^ persons, they are commonly vain 
and credulous withal. For he that talketh what he knoweth, 
will also talk what he knoweth not. Therefore set it down, 
that an habit of secrecy is both politic and moral. And in 
this part it is good that a man's face give his tongue leave to 
speak. For the discovery of a man's self by the tracts'' of 
his countenance is a great weakness and betraying; by how 
much it is many times more marked and believed than a 
man's words. 

For the second, which is dissimulation; it followeth many 
times upon secrecy by a necessity; so that he that will be 
secret must be a dissembler *in some degree. For men are 
too cunning to suffer a man to keep an indifferent carriage 
between both, and to be secret, without swaying the balance 
on either side. They will so beset a man with questions, 
and draw him on, and pick it out of him, that, without an 
absurd silence, he must show an inclination one way; or if 
he do not, they will gather as much by his silence as by his 
speech. As for equivocations, or oraculous speeches, they 
cannot hold out long. So that no man can be secret, except 
he give himself a little scope of dissimulation; which is, as 
it were, but the skirts or train of secrecy. 

But for the third degree, which is simulation and false 
profession; that I hold more culpable, and less politic; except 
it be in great and rare matters. And therefore a general 
custom of simulation (which is this last degree) is a vice, 
rising either of a natural falseness or fearfulness, or of a 
mind that hath some main faults, which because a man must 
needs disguise, it maketh him practise simulation in other 
things, lest his hand should be out of ure.* 

The great advantages of simulation and dissimulation are 
three. First, to lay asleep opposition, and to surprise. For 

' Babbling. ' Lines, expression, * Practise. 



20 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

where a man's intentions are published, it is an alarum 
to call up all that are against them. The second is, to reserve 
to a man's self a fair retreat. For if a man engage himself 
by a manifest declaration, he must go through or take a fall. 
The third is, the better to discover the mind of another. 
For to him that opens himself men will hardly show them- 
selves adverse; but will (fair^) let him go on, and turn their 
freedom of speech to freedom of thought. And therefore 
it is a good shrewd proverb of the Spaniard, Tell a lie and 
■find a troth. As if there were no way of discovery but by 
simulation. There be also three disadvantages, to set it even. 
The first, that simulation and dissimulation commonly carry 
with them a show of fearfulness, which in any business doth 
spoil the feathers of round^ flying up to the mark. The 
second, that it puzzleth and perplexeth the conceits of many, 
that perhaps would otherwise co-operate with him ; and makes 
a man walk almost alone to his own ends. The third and 
greatest is, that it depriveth a man of one of the most 
principal instruments for action; which is trust and belief. 
The best composition and temperature' is to have openness 
in fame and opinion; secrecy in habit; dissimulation in 
seasonable use ; and a power to feign, if there be no remedy. 



VII 

OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN 

The joys of parents are secret; and so are their griefs 
and fears. They cannot utter the one ; nor they will not utter 
the other. Children sweeten labors; but they make mis- 
fortunes more bitter. They increase the cares of life; but 
they mitigate the remembrance of death. The perpetuity 
by generation is common to beasts; but memory, merit, and 
noble works are proper to men. And surely a man shall see 
the noblest works and foundations have proceeded from child- 
less men; which have sought to express the images of their 
minds, where those of their bodies have failed. So the care 
of posterity is most in them that have no posterity. They 

6 Rather. * Straight. ' Combination of qualities, temperament 



OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN 21 

that are the first raisers of their houses are most indulgent 
towards their children; beholding them as the continuance 
not only of their kind but of their work ; and so both children 
and creatures. 

The difference in affection of parents towards their several 
children is many times unequal; and sometimes unworthy; 
especially in the mother; as Solomon saith, A wise son re- 
joiceth the father, hut an ungracious son shames the mother. 
A man shall see, where there is a house full of children, one 
or two of the eldest respected, and the youngest made wan- 
tons ;^ but in the midst some that are as it were forgotten, who 
many times nevertheless prove the best. The illiberality 
of parents in allowance towards their children is an harm- 
ful error; makes them base; acquaints them with shifts; 
makes them sort^ with mean company; and makes them 
surfeit more when they come to plenty. And therefore the 
proof is best, when men keep their authority towards their 
children, but not their purse. Men have a foolish manner 
(both parents and schoolmasters and servants) in creating 
and breeding an emulation between brothers during child- 
hood, which many times sorteth^ to discord when they are 
men, and disturbeth families. The Italians make little dif- 
ference between children and nephews or near kinsfolks ; but 
so they be of the lump, they care not though they pass not 
through their own body. And, to say truth, in nature it is 
much a like matter; insomuch that we see a nephew some- 
times resembleth an uncle or a kinsman more than his own 
parent; as the blood happens. Let parents choose betimes 
the vocations and courses they mean their children should 
take; for then they are most flexible; and let them not too 
much apply themselves to the disposition of their children, 
as thinking they will take best to that which they have most 
mind to. It is true, that if the affection or aptness of the 
children be extraordinary, then it is good not to cross it; 
but generally the precept is good, optimum elige, suave et 
facile illud faciet consuetudo [choose the best — custom will 
make it pleasant and easy]. Younger brothers are com- 
monly fortunate, but seldom or never where the elder 
are disinherited. 

^ Spoiled. " Associate. « Turns out. 

HC III 2 



22 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

VIII 

OF MARRIAGE AND SINGLE LIFE 

He that hath wife and children hath given hostages to for- 
tune; for they are impediments to great enterprises, either 
of virtue or mischief. Certainly the best works, and of 
greatest merit for the public, have, proceeded from the 
unmarried or childless men; which both in affection and 
means have married and endowed the public. Yet it were 
great reason that those that have children should have 
greatest care of future times; unto which they know they 
must transmit their dearest pledges. Some there are, who 
though they lead a single life, yet their thoughts do end with 
themselves, and account future times impertinences.^ Nay, 
there are some other that account wife and children but as 
bills of charges. Nay more, there are some foolish rich cov- 
etous men, that take a pride in having no children, because 
they may be thought so much the richer. For perhaps they 
have heard some talk, Such an one is a great rick man, and 
another except to it. Yea, hut he hath a great charge of chil- 
dren; as if it were an abatement to his riches. But the most 
ordinary cause of a single life is liberty, especially in certain 
self-pleasing and humorous^ minds, which are so sensible of 
every restraint, as they will go near to think their girdles 
and garters to be bonds and shackles. Unmarried men are 
best friends, best masters, best servants; but not always best 
subjects; for they are light to run away; and almost all 
fugitives are of that condition. A single life doth well with 
churchmen; for charity will hardly water the ground where 
it must first fill a pool. It is indifferent for judges and magis- 
trates; for if they be facile and corrupt, you shall have a 
servant five times worse than a wife. For soldiers, I find 
the generals commonly in their hortatives put men in mind 
of their wives and children; and I think the despising of 
marriage amongst the Turks maketh the vulgar soldier more 
base. Certainly wife and children are a kind of discipline 
of humanity; and single men, though they may be many 
times more charitable, because their means are less exhaust, 

1 Not their affair. ^ Capricious. 



OF ENVY 23 

yet, on the other side, they are more cruel and hardhearted 
(good to make severe inquisitors), because their tenderness 
is not so oft called upon. Grave natures, led by custom, and 
therefore constant, are commonly loving husbands, as was 
said of Ulysses, vetulam suam prcetulit immortalitati [he pre- 
ferred his old wife to immortality]. Chaste women are often 
proud and froward, as presuming upoji the merit of their 
chastity. It is one of the best bonds both of chastity and 
obedience in the wife, if she think her husband wise; which 
she will never do if she find him jealous. Wives are young 
men's mistresses; companions for middle age; and old men's 
nurses. So as a man may have a quarreP to marry when 
he will. But yet he* was reputed one of the wise men, that 
made answer to the question, when a man should marry, — 
A young, man not yet, an elder man not at all. It is often 
seen that bad husbands have very good wives ; whether it 
be that it raiseth the price of their husband's kindness when 
it comes; or that the wives take a pride in their patience. 
But this never fails, if the bad husbands were of their own 
choosing, against their friends' consent; for then they will 
be sure to make good their own folly. 



IX 

OF ENVY 

There be none of the affections which have been noted 
to fascinate or bewitch, but love and envy. They both 
have vehement wishes; they frame themselves readily into 
imaginations and suggestions; and they come easily into 
the eye, especially upon the presence of the objects; which 
are the points that conduce to fascination, if any such thing 
there be. We see likewise the Scripture calleth envy an evil 
eye; and the astrologers call the evil influences of the stars 
evil aspects; so that still there seemeth to be acknowledged, 
in the act of envy, an ejaculation^ or irradiation of the eye. 
Nay some have been so curious as to note that the times when 
the stroke or percussion of an envious eye doth most hurt 

3 Pretext. * Thales. i Darting out. 



24 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

are when the party envied is beheld in glory or triumph; 
for that sets an edge upon envy: and besides, at such times 
the spirits of the person envied do come forth most into the 
outward parts, and so meet the blow. 

But leaving these curiosities (though not unworthy to 
be thought on in fit place), we will handle, what persons are 
apt to envy others; what persons are most subject to be 
envied themselves ; and what is the difference between public 
and private envy. 

A man that hath no virtue in himself, ever envieth virtue 
in others. For men's minds will either feed upon their own 
good or upon others' evil; and who wanteth the one will 
prey upon the other; and whoso is out of hope to attain to 
another's virtue, will seek to come at even hand by de- 
pressing another's fortune. 

A man that is busy and inquisitive is commonly envious. 
For to know much of other men's matters cannot be because 
all that ado may concern his own estate; therefore it must 
needs be that he taketh a kind of play-pleasure in looking 
upon the fortunes of others. Neither can he that mindeth 
but his own business find much matter for envy. For envy is 
a gadding passion, and walketh the streets, and doth not 
keep home: Non est curiosus, quin idem sit malevolus 
[There is no curious man but has some malevolence to 
quicken his curiosity]. 

Men of noble birth are noted to be envious towards new 
men when they rise. For the distance is altered, and it is 
like a deceit of the eye, that when others come on they think 
themselves go back. 

Deformed persons, and eunuchs, and old men, and bastards, 
are envious. For he that cannot possibly mend his own 
case will do what he can to impair another's ; except these 
defects light upon a very brave and heroical nature, which 
thinketh to make his natural wants part of his honor; in 
that it should be said, that an eunuch, or a lame man, did 
such great matters; affecting the honor of a miracle; as it 
was in Narses the eunuch, and Agesilaus and Tamberlanes, 
that were lame men. 

The same is the case of men that rise after calamities and 
misfortunes. For they are as men fallen out with the times; 



OF ENVY 25 

and think other men's harms a redemption of their own 
sufferings. 

They that desire to excel in too many matters, out of levity 
and vain glory, are ever envious. For they cannot v^ant 
work; it being impossible but many in some one of those 
things should surpass them. Which was the character of 
Adrian the Emperor ; that mortally envied poets and painters 
and artificers, in works wherein he had a vein to excel. 

Lastly, near kinsfolks, and fellows in office, and those 
that have been bred together, are more apt to envy their 
equals when they are raised. For it doth upbraid unto them 
their own fortunes, and pointeth at them, and cometh oftener 
into their remembrance, and incurreth^ likewise more into 
the note of others; and envy ever redoubleth from speech 
and fame. Cain's envy was the more vile and malignant 
towards his brother Abel, because when his sacrifice was 
better accepted there was no body to look on. Thus much 
for those that are apt to envy. 

Concerning those that are more or less subject to envy: 
First, persons of eminent virtue, when they are advanced, 
are less envied. For their fortune seemeth but due unto 
them; and no man envieth the payment of a debt, but re- 
wards and liberality rather. Again, envy is ever joined 
with the comparing of a man's self; and where there is no 
comparison, no envy; and therefore kings are not envied 
but by kings. Nevertheless it is to be noted that unworthy 
persons are most envied at their first coming in, and after- 
wards overcome it better; whereas contrariwise, persons of 
worth and merit are most envied when their fortune con- 
tinueth long. For by that time, though their virtue be the 
same, yet it hath not the same lustre; for fresh men grow 
up that darken it. 

Persons of noble blood are less envied in their rising. 
For it seemeth but right done to their birth. Besides, there 
seemeth not much added to their fortune ; and envy is as 
the sunbeams, that beat hotter upon a bank or steep rising 
ground, than upon a flat. And for the same reason those 
that are advanced by degrees are less envied than those that 
are advanced suddenly and per saltum [at a bound]. 

2 Runneth into. 



26 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

Those that have joined with their honor great travels,^ 
cares, or perils, are less subject to envy. For men think 
that they earn their honors hardly, and pity them some- 
times; and pity ever healeth envy. Wherefore you shall 
observe that the more deep and sober sort of politic persons,* 
in their greatness, are ever bemoaning themselves, what a 
life they lead ; chanting a quanta patimur [how great things 
do we suffer!]. Not that they feel it so, but only to abate 
the edge of envy. But this is to be understood of business 
that is laid upon men, and not such as they call unto them- 
selves. For nothing increaseth envy more than an un- 
necessary and ambitious engrossing of business. And noth- 
ing doth extinguish envy more than for a great person to 
preserve all other inferior officers in their full rights and 
pre-eminences of their places. For by that means there be 
so many screens between him and envy. 

Above all, those are most subject to envy, which carry 
the greatness of their fortunes in an insolent and proud 
manner; being never well but while they are showing how 
great they are, either by outward pomp, or by triumphing 
over all opposition or competition; whereas wise men will 
rather do sacrifice to envy, in suffering themselves some- 
times of purpose to be crossed and overborne in things that 
do not much concern them. Notwithstanding, so much is 
true, that the carriage of greatness in a plain and open man- 
ner (so it be without arrogancy and vain glory) doth draw less 
envy than if it be in a more crafty and cunning fashion. For 
in that course a man doth disavow fortune; and seemeth to 
be conscious of his own want in worth; and doth but teach 
others to envy him. 

Lastly, to conclude this part; as we said in the beginning 
that the act of envy had somewhat in it of witchcraft, so 
there is no other cure of envy but the cure of witchcraft; 
and that is, to remove the lof (as they call it) and to lay 
it upon another. For which purpose, the wiser sort of great 
persons bring in ever upon the stage somebody upon whom 
to derive* the envy that would come upon themselves ; some- 
times upon ministers and servants; sometimes upon col- 
leagues and associates ; and the like ; and for that turn there 

' Travails, labors. * Politicians. ^ Spell. ^ Divert. 



OF ENVY 27 

are never wanting some persons of violent and undertaking 
natures, who, so they may have power and business, will 
take it at any cost. 

Now, to speak of public envy. There is yet some good 
in public envy, whereas in private there is none. For pub- 
lic envy is as an ostracism, that eclipseth men when they 
grow too great. And therefore it is a bridle also to great 
ones, to keep them within bounds. 

This envy, being in the Latin word invidia, goeth in the 
modern languages by the name of discontentment ; of which 
we shall speak in handling sedition. It is a disease in a 
state like to infection. For as infection spreadeth upon that 
which is sound, and tainteth it; so when envy is gotten once 
into a state, it traduceth even the best actions thereof, and 
turneth them into an ill odor. And therefore there is little 
won by intermingling of plausible' actions. For that doth 
argue but a weakness and fear of envy, which hurteth so 
much the more, as it is likewise usual in infections; which 
if you fear them, you call them upon you. 

This public envy seemeth to beat chiefly upon principal 
officers or ministers, rather than upon kings and estates 
themselves. But this is a sure rule, that if the envy upon 
the minister be great, when the cause of it in him is small; 
or if the envy be general in a manner upon all the ministers 
of an estate; then the envy (though hidden) is truly upon 
the state itself. And so much of public envy or discontent- 
ment, and the difference thereof from private envy, which 
was handled in the first place. 

We will add this in general, touching the affection of 
envy; that of all other affections it is the most importune 
and continual. For of other affections there is occasion 
given but now and then; and therefore it was well said, 
Invidia festos dies non agit [Envy keeps no holidays] : for 
it is ever working upon some or other. And it is also noted 
that love and envy do make a man pine, which other affec- 
tions do not, because they are not so continual. It is also 
the vilest affection, and the most depraved; for which cause 
it is the proper attribute of the devil, who is called the en- 
vious man, that soweth tares amongst the wheat by night; 

' Praiseworthy, 



28 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

as it always cometh to pass, that envy worketh subtilly, and 
in the dark, and to the prejudice of good things, such as is 
the wheat. 



X 

OF LOVE 

The stage is more beholding to love, than the life of man. 
For as to the stage, love is ever matter of comedies, and 
now and then of tragedies ; but in life it doth much mischief ; 
sometimes like a siren, sometimes like a fury. You may 
observe that amongst all the great and worthy persons 
(whereof the memory remaineth, either ancient or recent) 
there is not one that hath been transported to the mad degree 
of love: which shows that great spirits and great business 
do keep out this weak passion. You must except neverthe- 
less Marcus Antonius, the half partner of the empire of 
Rome, and Appius Claudius, the decemvir and lawgiver; 
whereof the former was indeed a voluptuous man, and inor- 
dinate; but the latter was an austere and wise man: and 
therefore it seems (though rarely) that love can find en- 
trance not only into an open heart, but also into a heart well 
fortified, if watch be not well kept. It is a poor saying of 
Epicurus, Satis magnum alter alteri theatrum sumus [Each 
is to another a theatre large enough] ; as if man, made for 
the contemplation of heaven and all noble objects, should do 
nothing but kneel before a little idol, and make himself a 
subject, though not of the mouth (as beasts are), yet of the 
eye; which was given him for higher purposes. It is a 
strange thing to note the excess of this passion, and how 
it braves the nature and value of things, by this; that the 
speaking in a perpetual hyperbole is comely in nothing but 
in love. Neither is it merely in the phrase; for whereas 
it hath been well said that the arch-flatterer, with whom 
all the petty flatterers have intelligence, is a man's self ; cer- 
tainly the lover is more. For there was never proud man 
thought so absurdly well of himself as the lover doth of 
the person loved; and therefore it was well said, That 
it is impossible to love and to he zvise. Neither doth this 



OF GREAT PLACE 29 

weakness appear to others only, and not to the party loved; 
but to the loved most of all, except the love be reciproque/ 
For it is a true rule, that love is ever rewarded either with 
the reciproque or with an inward and secret contempt. By 
how much the more men ought to beware of this passion, 
which loseth not only other things, but itself! As for the 
other losses, the poet's relation doth well figure them: that 
he that preferred Helena quitted the gifts of Juno and Pallas. 
For whosoever esteemeth too much of amorous affection 
quitteth both riches and wisdom. This passion hath his 
floods in very times of weakness ; which are great prosperity 
and great adversity; though this latter hath been less ob- 
served: both which times kindle love, and make it more 
fervent, and therefore show it to be the child of folly. They 
do best, who if they cannot but admit love, yet make it keep 
quarter;^ and sever it wholly from their serious affairs and 
actions of life; for if it check^ once with business, it 
troubleth men's fortunes, and maketh men that they can no 
ways be true to their own ends. I know not how, but mar- 
tial men are given to love: I think it is but as they are 
given to wine; for perils commonly ask to be paid in pleas- 
ures. There is in man's nature a secret inclination and 
motion towards love of others, which if it be not spent upon 
some one or a few, doth naturally spread itself towards 
many, and maketh men become humane and charitable; as 
it is seen sometime in friars. Nuptial love maketh mankind ; 
friendly love prefecteth it; but wanton love corrupteth and 
embaseth it. 



XI 

OF GREAT PLACE 

Men in great place are thrice servants: servants of the 
sovereign or state; servants of fame; and servants of busi- 
ness. So as they have no freedom ; neither in their persons, 
nor in their actions, nor in their times. It is a strange 
desire, to seek power and to lose liberty: or to seek power 
over others and to lose power over a man's self. The 

1 Mutual. 2 Its own place. ^ Interfere. 



30 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

rising unto place is laborious; and by pains men come to 
greater pains; and it is sometimes base; and by indignities 
men come to dignities. The standing is slippery, and the re- 
gress is either a downfall, or at least an eclipse, which is a 
melancholy thing. Cum non sis qui fueris, non esse cur velis 
vivere [When a man feels that he is no longer what he was, 
he has no reason to live longer]. Nay, retire men cannot 
when they would, neither will they when it were reason; 
but are impatient of privateness, even in age and sickness, 
which require the shadow; like old townsmen, that will be 
still sitting at their street door, though thereby they offer 
age to scorn. Certainly great persons had need to borrow 
other men's opinions, to think themselves happy; for if they 
judge by their own feeling, they cannot find it; but if they 
think with themselves what other men think of them, and 
that other men would fain be as they are, then they are 
happy as it were by report; when perhaps they find the con- 
trary within. For they are the first that find their own 
griefs, though they be the last that find their own 'faults. 
Certainly men in great fortunes are strangers to themselves, 
and while they are in the puzzle of business they have no 
time to tend their health either of body or mind. Illi mors 
gravis incubat, qui notus nimis omnibus, ignotus moritur sihi 
[It is a sad fate for a man to die too well known to every- 
body else, and still unknown to himself]. In place there is 
license to do good and evil; whereof the latter is a curse: 
for in evil the best condition is not to will; the second, not 
to can. But power to do good is the true and lawful end of 
aspiring. For good thoughts (though God accept them) yet 
towards men are little better than good dreams, except they 
be put in act; and that cannot be without power and place, 
as the vantage and commanding ground. Merit and good 
Vv^orks is the end of man's motion; and conscience of the 
same is the accomplishment of man's rest. For if a man can 
be partaker of God's theatre,^ he shall likewise be partaker 
of God's rest. Et conversus Deus, ut aspiceret opera qucB 
fecerunt manus suce, vidit quod omnia essent bona nimis 
[And God turned to look upon the works which his hands 
had made, and saw that all were very good] ; and then the 

iWhat God saw. 



OF GREAT PLACE 31 

sabbath. In the discharge of thy place set before thee the 
best examples; for imitation is a globe^ of precepts. And 
after a time set before thee thine own example; and ex- 
amine thyself strictly whether thou didst not best at first. 
Neglect not also the examples of those that have carried 
themselves ill in the same place; not to set off thyself by 
taxing^ their memory, but to direct thyself what to avoid. 
Reform therefore, without bravery* or scandal of former 
times and persons; but yet set it down to thyself as well to 
create good precedents as to follow them. Reduce things 
to the first institution, and observe wherein and how they 
have degenerate; but yet ask counsel of both times; of the 
ancient time, what is best; and of the latter time, what is 
fittest. Seek to make thy course regular, that men may 
know beforehand what they may expect; but be not too 
positive and peremptory ; and express thyself well when thou 
digressest from thy rule. Preserve the right of thy place; 
but stir not questions of jurisdiction; and rather assume 
thy right in silence and de facto [from the fact], than voice 
it with claims and challenges. Preserve likewise the rights 
of inferior places ; and think it more honor to direct in chief 
than to be busy in all. Embrace and invite helps and advices 
touching the execution of thy place; and do not drive away 
such as bring thee information, as meddlers; but accept of 
them in good part. The vices of authority are chiefly four: 
delays, corruption, roughness, and facility.^ For delays : 
give easy access ; keep times appointed ; go through with that 
which is in hand, and interlace not business but of necessity. 
For corruption: do not only bind thine own hands or thy 
servants' hands from taking, but bind the hands of suitors 
also from offering. For integrity used doth the one; but 
integrity professed, and with a manifest detestation of brib- 
ery, doth the other. And avoid not only the fault, but the 
suspicion. Whosoever is found variable, and changeth mani- 
festly without manifest cause, giveth suspicion of corruption. 
Therefore always when thou changest thine opinion or 
course, profess it plainly, and declare it, together with the 
reasons that move thee to change; and do not think to steaP 

2 Complete body. ^ Censuring. * Boastf ulness. ^ Being easily led. 
* Do secretly. 



32 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

it. A servant or a favorite, if he be inward, and no other 
apparent cause of esteem, is commonly thought but a by-way 
to close^ corruption. For roughness: it is a needless cause 
of discontent : severity breedeth fear, but roughness breedeth 
hate. Even reproofs from authority ought to be grave, and 
not taunting. As for facility:'^ it is worse than bribery. 
For bribes come but now and then; but if importunity or 
idle respects^ lead a man, he shall never be without. As 
Solomon saith. To respect persons is not good; for such a 
man will transgress for a piece of bread. It is most true 
that was anciently spoken,.^ place showeth the man. And 
it showeth some to the better, and some to the worse. Om- 
nium consensu capax imperii, nisi imperasset [A man whom 
every body would have thought fit for empire if he had not 
been emperor], saith Tacitus of Galba; but of Vespasian 
he saith. Solus imperantium, Vespasianus mutatus in melius 
[He was the only emperor whom the possession of power 
changed for the better] ; though the one was meant of 
sufficiency, the other of manners and affection. It is an 
assured sign of a worthy and generous spirit, whom honor 
amends. For honor is, or should be, the place of virtue; 
and as in nature things move violently to their place and 
calmly in their place, so virtue in ambition is violent, in au- 
thority settled and calm. All rising to great place is by 
a windng stair ; and if there be factions, it is good to side a 
man's self whilst he is in the rising, and to balance himself 
when he is placed. Use the memory of thy predecessor fairly 
and tenderly; for if thou dost not, it is a debt will sure be 
paid when thou art gone. If thou have colleagues, respect 
them, and rather call them when they look not for it, than 
exclude them when they have reason to look to be called. 
Be not too sensible or too remembering of thy place in con- 
versation and private answers to suitors; but let it rather 
be said. When he sits in place he is another man. 
^ Being easily led. '^ Secret. ^ Considerations. 



OF BOLDNESS 33 

XII 

OF BOLDNESS 

It is a trivial grammar-school text, but yet worthy a wise 
man's consideration. Question was asked of Demosthenes, 
what was the chief part of an oratorl he answered, action; 
what next? action; what next again? action. He said it 
that knew it best, and had by nature himself no advantage 
in that he commended. A strange thing, that that part of 
an orator which is but superficial, and rather the virtue of 
a player, should be placed so high, above those other noble 
parts of invention, elocution, and the rest ; nay almost alone, 
as if it were all in all. But the reason is plain. There is in 
human nature generally more of the fool than of the wise; 
and therefore those faculties by which the fooHsh part of 
men's minds is taken are most potent. Wonderful like is the 
case of boldness in civil business : what first ? boldness ; what 
second and third? boldness. And yet boldness is a child of 
ignorance and baseness^ far inferior to other parts. But 
nevertheless it doth fascinate and bind hand and foot those 
that are either shallow in judgment or weak in courage, 
which are the greatest part; yea and prevaileth with wise 
men at weak times. Therefore we see it hath done wonders 
in popular states; but with senates and princes less; and 
more ever upon the first entrance of bold persons into action 
than soon after; for boldness is an ill keeper of promise. 
Surely as there are mountebanks^ for the natural body, so 
are there mountebanks for the politic body; men that un- 
dertake great cures, and perhaps have been lucky in two 
or three experiments, but want the grounds of science, and 
therefore cannot hold out. Nay, you shall see a bold fellow 
many times do Mahomet's miracle. Mahomet made the 
people believe that he would call an hill to him, and from 
the top of it offer up his prayers, for the observers of his 
law. The people assembled; Mahomet called the hill to 
come to him, again and again ; and when the hill stood still, 
he was never a whit abashed, but said, // the hill will not 
come to Mahomet, Mahomet will go to the hill. So these 

1 Quacks. 



34 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

men, when they have promised great matters and failed 
most shamefully, yet (if they have the perfection of bold- 
ness) they will but slight it over, and make a turn, and no 
more ado. Certainly to men of great judgment, bold persons 
are a sport to behold; nay and to the vulgar also, boldness 
has somewhat of the ridiculous. For if absurdity be the 
subject of laughter, doubt you not but great boldness is 
seldom without some absurdity. Especially it is a sport to 
see, when a bold fellow is out of countenance; for that 
puts his face into a most shrunken and wooden posture; as 
needs it must; for in bashfulness the spirits do a httle go 
and come; but with bold men, upon like occasion, they stand 
at a stay; like a stale at chess, where it is no mate, but yet 
the game cannot stir. But this last were fitter for a satire 
than for a serious observation. This is well to be weighed; 
that boldness is ever blind; for it seeth not dangers and in- 
conveniences. Therefore it is ill in counsel, good in exe- 
cution; so that the right use of bold persons is, that they 
never command in chief, but be seconds, and under the 
direction of others. For in counsel it is good to see dangers ; 
and in execution not to see them, except they be very great. 



XIII 

OF GOODNESS AND GOODNESS OF NATURE 

I TAKE goodness in this sense, the affecting of the weal 
of men, which is that the Grecians call philanthropia; and 
the word humanity (as it is used) is a little too light to 
express it. Goodness I call the habit, and goodness of 
nature the inclination. This of all virtues and dignities of 
the mind is the greatest; being the character of the Deity: 
and without it man is a busy, mischievous, wretched thing; 
no better than a kind of vermin. Goodness answers to the 
theological virtue charity, and admits no excess, but error. 
The desire of power in excess caused the angels to fall ; the 
desire of knowledge in excess caused man to fall : but in 
charity there is no excess; neither can angel nor man come 
in danger by it. The inclination to goodness is imprinted 



OF GOODNESS AND GOODNESS OF NATURE 35 

deeply in the nature of man; insomuch that if it issue not 
towards men, it will take unto other living creatures; as it 
is seen in the Turks, a cruel people, who nevertheless are 
kind to beasts, and give alms to dogs and birds; insomuch 
as Busbechius reporteth, a Christian boy in Constantinople 
had like to have been stoned for gagging in a waggishness 
a long-billed fowl. Errors indeed in this virtue of goodness 
or charity may be committed. The Italians have an un- 
gracious proverb, Tanto huon che val niente ISo good, that 
he is good for nothing']. And one of the doctors of Italy, 
Nicholas Machiavel, had the confidence to put in writing, 
almost in plain terms, That the Christian faith had given 
up good men in prey to those that are tyrannical and unjust. 
Which he spake, because indeed there was never law or 
sect or opinion did so much magnify goodness as the 
Christian reHgion doth. Therefore, to avoid the scandal 
and the danger both, it is good to take knowledge of the 
errors of an habit so excellent. Seek the good of other men, 
but be not in bondage to their faces or fancies; for that is 
but facility or softness; which taketh an honest mind pris- 
oner. Neither give thou ^Esop's cock a gem, who would be 
better pleased and happier if he had had a barley-corn. 
The example of God teacheth the lesson truly: He sendeth 
his rain and maketh his sun to shine upon the just and unjust; 
but he doth not rain wealth nor shine honor and virtues, 
upon men equally. Common benefits are to be communicate 
with all ; but peculiar benifits with choice. And beware how 
in making the portraiture thou breakest the pattern. For 
divinity maketh the love of ourselves the pattern; the love 
of our neighbors but the portraiture. Sell all thou hast, and 
give it to the poor, and follow me: but sell not all thou hast, 
except thou come and follow me; that is, except thou have 
a vocation wherein thou mayest do as much good with little 
means as with great; for otherwise in feeding the streams 
thou driest the fountain. Neither is there only a habit of 
goodness, directed by right reason ; but there is in some 
men, even in nature, a disposition towards it; as on the 
other side there is a natural malignity. For there be that 
in their nature do not affect the good of others. The lighter 
sort of malignity turneth but to a crossness, or frowardness, 



36 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

or aptness to oppose, or difficilness,^ or the like ; but the deeper 
sort to envy and mere mischief. Such men in other men's 
calamities are, as it were, in season, and are ever on the 
loading part: not so good as the dogs that licked Lazarus' 
sores ; but like flies that are still buzzing upon any thing that 
is raw; misanthropi [haters of men], that make it their 
practice to bring men to the bough,^ and yet never a tree for 
the purpose in their gardens, as Timon had. Such dis- 
positions are the very errors of human nature ; and yet they 
are the fittest timber to make great politics of; like to knee 
timber, that is good for ships, that are ordained to be tossed; 
but not for building houses, that shall stand firm. The parts 
and signs of goodness are many. If a man be gracious and 
courteous to strangers, it shows he is a citizen of the world, 
and that his heart is no island cut off from other lands, but 
a continent that joins to them. If he be compassionate 
towards the afflictions of others, it shows that his heart is like 
the noble tree that is wounded itself when it gives the balm. 
If he easily pardons and remits offences, it shows that his 
mind is planted above injuries; so that he cannot be shot. 
If he be thankful for small benefits, it shows that he weighs 
men's minds, and not their trash. But above all, if he have 
St. Paul's perfection, that he would wish to be anathema^ 
from Christ for the salvation of his brethren, it shows much 
of a divine nature, and a kind of conformity with Christ 
himself. 



XIV 

OF NOBILITY 

We will speak of nobility first as a portion of an estate,^ 
then as a condition of particular persons. A monarchy 
where there is no nobility at all is ever a pure and absolute 
tyranny; as that of the Turks. For nobility attempers 
sovereignty, and draws the eyes of the people somewhat aside 
from the line royal. But for democracies, they need it not ; 
and they are commonly more quiet and less subject to sedition, 
than where there are stirps^ of nobles. For men's eyes are 

1 Moroseness. ^ Jq hang themselves. ^ Accused. ^ State. 

2 Families. 



OF NOBILITY 37 

upon the business, and not upon the persons; or if upon the 
persons, it is for the business' sake, as fittest, and not for 
flags and pedigree. We see the Switzers last well, notwith- 
standing their diversity of religion and of cantons. For 
utility is their bond, and not respects.^ The united provinces 
of the Low Countries in their government excel; for where 
there is an equality, the consultations are more indifferent, 
and the payments and tributes more cheerful, A great and 
potent nobility addeth majesty to a monarch, but diminisheth 
power; and putteth life and spirit into the people, but presseth 
their fortune. It is well when nobles are not too great for 
sovereignty nor for justice; and yet maintained in that 
height, as the insolency of inferiors may be broken upon them 
before it come on too fast upon the majesty of kings. A 
numerous nobility causeth poverty and inconvenience in a 
state ; for it is a surcharge* of expense ; and besides, it being 
of necessity that many of the nobility fall in time to be weak 
in fortune, it maketh a kind of disproportion between honor 
and means. 

As for nobility in particular persons; it is a reverend 
thing to see an ancient castle or building not in decay ; or to 
see a fair timber tree sound and perfect. How much more 
to behold an ancient noble family, which hath stood against 
the waves and weathers of time ! For new nobility is but 
the act of power, but ancient nobility is the act of time. 
Those that are first raised to nobility are commonly more 
virtuous,^ but less innocent, than their descendants ; for there 
is rarely any rising but by a commixture of good and evil 
arts. But it is reason the memory of their virtues remain 
to their posterity, and their faults die with themselves. 
Nobility of birth commonly abateth industry; and he that 
is not industrious, envieth him that is. Besides, noble persons 
cannot go much higher ; and he that standeth at a stay when 
others rise, can hardly avoid motions of envy. On the 
other side, nobility extinguisheth the passive envy from 
others towards them ; because they are in possession of honor. 
Certainly, kings that have able men of their nobility shall 
find ease in employing them, and a better slide into their 
business ; for people naturally bend to them, as born in some 
sort to command. 

8 Considerations of rank. * Excess. ^ Able. 
HC III 3 



38 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

XV 

OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES 

Shepherds of people had need know the calendars^ of tem- 
pests in state; which are commonly greatest when things 
grow to equality; as natural tempests are greatest about the 
Equinoctia. And as there are certain hollow blasts of wind 
and secret swellings of seas before a tempest, so are there 
in states: 

Ille etiam caecos instare tumultus 

Saepe monet, fraudesque et operta tumescere bella. 

[Of troubles imminent and treasons dark 

Thence warning comes, and wars in secret gathering. Virgil] 

Libels and licentious discourses against the state, when they 
are frequent and open; and in like sort, false news often 
running up and down to the disadvantage of the state, and 
hastily embraced; are amongst the signs of troubles. Virgil, 
giving the pedigree of Fame, saith she was sister to the 
Giants : 

lUam Terra parens, ir§, irritata deorum, 

Extremam (ut perhibent) Coeo Enceladoque sororem 

Progenuit. 

[Her, Parent Earth, furious with the anger of the ' gods, 
brought forth, the youngest sister (as they affirm) of Coeus 
and Enceladus.] 

As if fames^ were the relics of seditions past; but they are 
no less indeed the preludes of seditions to come. Howsoever 
he noteth it right, that seditious tumults and seditious fames 
differ no more but as brother and sister, masculine and 
feminine; especially if it come to that, that the best actions 
of a state, and the most plausible, and which ought to give 
greatest contentment, are taken in ill sense, and traduced; 
for that shows the envy great, as Tacitus saith; coniiata 
magna invidia, sen bene seu male gesta premunt [when dis- 
like prevails against the government, good actions and bad 
offend alike]. Neither doth it follow, that because these 
fames are a sign of troubles that the suppressing of them with 
^ Weather predictions. ^ Rumors. 



OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES 39 

too much severity should be a remedy of troubles. For the 
despising of them many times checks them best; and the 
going about to stop them doth but make a wonder long-lived. 
Also that kind of obedience which Tacitus speaketh of, is to 
be held suspected: Erant in oificio, sed tamen qui mallent 
mandata imperantium interpretari quam exequi [Ready to 
serve, and yet more disposed to construe commands than ex- 
ecute them] ; disputing, excusing, cavilling upon mandates 
and directions, is a kind of shaking off the yoke, and assay 
of disobedience; especially if in those disputings they which 
are for the direction speak fearfully and tenderly, and those 
that are against it audaciously. 

Also, as Machiavel noteth well, when princes, that ought 
to be common parents, make themselves as a party, and lean 
to a side, it is as a boat that is overthrown by uneven weight 
on the one side; as was well seen in the time of Henry the 
Third of France; for first himself entered league for the 
extirpation of the Protestants; and presently after the same 
league was turned upon himself. For when the authority 
of princes is made but an accessory to a cause, and that 
there be other bands that tie faster than the band of sover- 
eignty, kings begin to be put almost out of possession. 

Also, when discords, and quarrels, and factions are carried 
openly and audaciously, it is a sign the reverence of govern- 
ment is lost. For the motions of the greatest persons in a 
government ought to be as the motions of the planets under 
primum mobile f (according to the old opinion), which is, 
that every of them is carried swiftly by the highest motion, 
and softly in their own motion. And therefore, when great 
ones in their own particular motion move violently, and, as 
Tacitus expresseth it well, liberius quam ut imperantium me- 
minissent [unrestrained by reverence for the government], 
it is a sign the orbs are out of frame. For reverence is that 
wherewith princes are girt from God; who threateneth the 
dissolving thereof ; Solvam cingula regum [I will unbind the 
girdles of kings]. 

So when any of the four pillars of government are mainly 
shaken or weakened (which are religion, justice, counsel, 

^ In the old astronomy, the primum. mobile (first moving) was the outer 
sphere, whose motion from east to west dominated the motions of the inner 
spheres of the planets. 



40 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

and treasure), men had need to pray for fair weather. But 
let us pass from this part of predictions (concerning which, 
nevertheless, more light may be taken from that which 
followeth) ; and let us speak first of the materials of seditions; 
then of the motives of them; and thirdly of the remedies. 

Concerning the materials of seditions. It is a thing well 
to be considered; for the surest way to prevent seditions (if 
the times do bear it) is to take away the matter of them. 
For if there be fuel prepared, it is hard to tell whence the 
spark shall come that shall set it on fire. The matter of sedi- 
tions is of two kinds: much poverty and much discontent- 
ment. It is certain, so many overthrown estates, so many 
votes for troubles. Lucan noteth well the state of Rome 
before the Civil War, 

Hinc usura vorax, rapidumque in tempore foenus, 
Hinc concussa fides, et multis utile bellum. 

[Hence estates eaten up by usurious rates of interest, and 
interest greedy of time, hence credit shaken, and war a gain 
to many.] 

This same multis utile bellum. is an assured and infallible 
sign of a state disposed to seditions and troubles. And if this 
poverty and broken estate in the better sort be joined with 
a want and necessity in the mean people, the danger is im- 
minent and great. For the rebellions of the belly* ^re the 
worst. As for discontentments, they are in the politic body 
like to humors in the natural, which are apt to gather a pre- 
ternatural heat and to inflame. And let no prince measure 
the danger of them by this, whether they be just or unjust: 
for that were to imagine people to be too reasonable ; who 
do often spurn at their own good: nor yet by this, whether 
the griefs whereupon they rise be in fact great or small : for 
they are the most dangerous discontentments where the fear 
is greater than the feeling. Dolendi modus, timendi non item 
[Suffering has its limit, but fears are endless]. Besides, in 
great oppressions, the same things that provoke the patience, 
do withal mate^ the courage ; but in fears it is not so. Neither 
let any prince or state be secure® concerning discontentments, 
because they have been often, or have been long, and yet no 

* From hunger. ^ Confound. ^ Free from care. 



OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES 41 

peril hath ensued: for as it is true that every vapor or fume 
doth not turn into a storm ; so it is nevertheless true that storms, 
though they blow over divers times, yet may fall at last ; and, 
as the Spanish proverb noteth well, The cord hreaketh at the 
last by the weakest pull. 

The causes and motives of seditions are, innovation in 
religion; taxes; alteration of laws and customs; breaking 
of privileges; general oppression; advancement of unworthy 
persons ; strangers ; dearths ; disbanded soldiers ; factions 
grown desperate; and whatsoever, in offending people, joineth 
and knitteth them in a common cause. 

For the remedies ; there may be some general preservatives, 
whereof we will speak: as for the just cure, it must answer 
to the particular disease; and so be left to counsel rather 
than rule. 

The first remedy or prevention is to remove by all means 
possible that material cause of sedition whereof we spake; 
which is, want and poverty in the estate. To which purpose 
serveth the opening and well-balancing of trade ; the cherish- 
ing of manufactures; the banishing of idleness; the repres- 
sing of waste and excess by sumptuary' laws ; the improve- 
ment and husbanding of the soil; the regulating of prices 
of things vendible ; the moderating of taxes and tributes ; and 
the like. Generally, it is to be foreseen^ that the population 
of a kingdom (especially if it be not mown down by wars) 
do not exceed the stock of the kingdom which should main- 
tain them. Neither is the population to be reckoned only by 
number ; for a smaller number that spend more and earn less 
do wear out an estate sooner than a greater number that 
live lower and gather more. Therefore the multiplying of 
nobility and other degrees of quality in an over proportion 
to the common people doth speedily bring a state to necessity ; 
and so doth likewise an overgrown clergy; for they bring 
nothing to the stock; and in like manner, when more are 
bred scholars than preferments can take off. 

It is likewise to be remembered, that forasmuch as the 
increase of any estate must be upon the foreigner (for what- 
soever is somewhere gotten is somewhere lost), there be 
but three things which one nation selleth unto another; the 

' Against extravagance. ^ Guarded against beforehand. 



42 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

commodity as nature yieldeth it; the manufacture; and the 
vecture, or carriage. So that if these three wheels go, wealth 
will flow as in a spring tide. And it cometh many times to 
pass, that materiam superabit opus; that the work and car- 
riage is more worth than the material, and enricheth a state 
more; as is notably seen in the Low-Countrymen, who have 
the best mines above ground in the world. 

Above all things, good policy is to be used that the treasure 
and moneys in a state be not gathered into few hands. For 
otherwise a state may have a great stock, and yet starve. 
And money is like muck, not good except it be spread. This 
is done chiefly by suppressing or at least keeping a strait 
hand upon the devouring trades of usury, ingrossing^ great 
pasturages, and the like. 

For removing discontentments, or at least the danger 
of them; there is in every state (as we know) two portions 
of subjects; the noblesse and the commonalty. When one 
of these is discontent, the danger is not great; for common 
people are of slow motion, if they be not excited by the 
greater sort; and the greater sort are of small strength, 
except the multitude be apt and ready to move of themselves. 
Then is the danger, when the greater sort do but wait for 
the troubling of the waters amongst the meaner, that then 
they may declare themselves. The poets feign that the 
rest of the gods would have bound Jupiter; which he hearing 
of, by the counsel of Pallas, sent for Briareus, with his 
hundred hands, to come in to his aid. An emblem, no doubt, 
to show how safe it is for monarchs to make sure of the good 
will of common people. To give moderate liberty for griefs 
and discontentments to evaporate (so it be without too great 
insolency or bravery), is a safe way. For he that turneth 
the humors back, and maketh the wound bleed inwards, en- 
dangereth malign ulcers and pernicious imposthumations.^" 

The part of Epimetheus" mought well become Prome- 
theus" in the case of discontentments: for there is not a 
better provision against them. Epimetheus, when griefs 
and evils flew abroad, at last shut the lid, and kept hope 
in the bottom of the vessel. Certainly, the politic and artifi- 
cial nourishing and entertaining of hopes, and carrying men 

» " Cornering." i" Abscesses. " Afterthought. ^ Forethought. 



OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES 43 

from hopes to hopes, is one of the best antidotes against the 
poison of discontentments. And it is a certain sign of a 
wise government and proceeding, when it can hold men's 
hearts by hopes, when it cannot by satisfaction ; and when 
it can handle things in such manner, as no evil shall appear 
so peremptory but that it hath some outlet of hope; which 
is the less hard to do, because both particular persons and 
factions are apt enough to flatter themselves, or at least to 
brave that which they believe not. 

Also the foresight and prevention, that there be no likely 
or fit head whereunto discontented persons may resort, and 
under whom they may join, is a known, but an excellent 
point of caution. I understand a fit head to be one that 
hath greatness and reputation; that hath confidence with 
the discontented party, and upon whom they turn their eyes ; 
and that is thought discontented in his own particular: 
which kind of persons are either to be won and reconciled 
to the state, and that in a fast and true manner; or to be 
fronted with some other of the same party, that may oppose 
them, and so divide the reputation. Generally, the dividing and 
breaking of all factions and combinations that are adverse 
to the state, and setting them at distance, or at least distrust, 
amongst themselves, is not one of the worst remedies. For 
it is a desperate case, if those that hold with the proceeding 
of the state be full of discord and faction, and those that 
are against it be entire and united. 

I have noted that some witty and sharp speeches which 
have fallen from princes have given fire to seditions. Csesar 
did himself infinite hurt in that speech, Sylla nescivit literas, 
non potuit dictare [Sylla was no scholar, he could not dic- 
tate] ; for it did utterly cut off that hope which men had 
entertained, that he would at one time or other give over 
his dictatorship. Galba undid himself by that speech, legi a 
se militem, non emi [that he did not buy his soldiers, but 
levied them] ; for it put the soldiers out of hope of the 
donative.^^ Probus likewise, by that speech. Si vixero, non 
opus erit amplius Romano imperio militibus [If I live, the 
Roman empire shall have no more need of soldiers] ; a speech 
of great despair for the soldiers. And many the like. Surely 

13 Gifts of money. 



44 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

princes had need, in tender matters and ticklish times,, to 
beware what they say; especially in these short speeches, 
which fly abroad like darts, and are thought to be shot out 
of their secret intentions. For as for large discourses, they 
are flat things, and not so much noted. 

Lastly, let princes, against all events, not be without some 
great person, one or rather more, of military valor, near 
unto them, for the repressing of seditions in their beginnings. 
For without that, there usetli to be more trepidation in court 
upon the first breaking out of troubles than were fit. And the 
state runneth the danger of that which Tacitus saith; Atque 
is habitus animorum fiiit, ut pessimum f acinus auderent pauci, 
plures vellent, omnes patereniur [A few were in a humor to 
attempt mischief, more to desire, all to allow it]. But let such 
military persons be assured, and well reputed of, rather than 
factious and popular ; holding also good correspondence with 
the other great men in the state; or else the remedy is worse 
than the disease. 



XVI 

OF ATHEISM 

I HAD rather believe all the fables in the Legend,^ and the 
Talmud,^ and the Alcoran,^ than that this universal frame 
is without a mind. And therefore God never wrought 
miracle to convince* atheism, because his ordinary works con- 
vince it. It is true, that a little philosophy inclineth man's 
mind to atheism; but depth in philosophy bringeth men's 
minds about to religion. For while the mind of man looketh 
upon second causes scattered, it may sometimes rest in them, 
and go no further ; but when it beholdeth the chain of them, 
confederate and linked together, it must needs fly to Provi- 
dence and Deity. Nay, even that school which is most ac- 
cused of atheism doth most demonstrate religion ; that is, the 
school of Leucippus and Democritus and Epicurus, For 
it is a thousand times more credible, that four mutable ele- 
ments, and one immutable fifth essence, duly and eternally 

1 " The Golden Legend," a 13th century collection of saints' lives. 

2 The body of Jewish traditional law. ^ " The Koran," the sacred book 
of the Mohammedans. * Refute. 



OF ATHEISM 45 

placed, need no God, than that an army of infinite small 
portions or seeds unplaced, should have produced this order 
and beauty without a divine marshal. The Scripture saith, 
The fool hath said in his heart, there is no God; it is not said, 
The fool hath thought in his heart; so as he rather saith it 
by rote to himself, as that he would have, than that he can 
thoroughly believe it, or be persuaded of it. For none deny 
there is a God, but those for whom it maketh^ that there 
were no God. It appeareth in nothing more, that atheism 
is rather in the lip than in the heart of man, than by this; 
that atheists will ever be talking of that their opinion, as 
if they fainted in it within themselves, and would be glad 
to be strengthened by the consent of others. Nay more, you 
shall have atheists strive to get disciples, as it fareth with 
other sects. And, which is most of all, you shall have of 
them that will suffer for atheism, and not recant; whereas 
if they did truly think that there were no such thing as God, 
why should they trouble themselves? Epicurus is charged 
that he did but dissemble for his credit's sake, when he af- 
firmed there were blessed natures, but such as enjoyed them- 
selves without having respect to the government of the world. 
Wherein they say he did temporize; though in secret he 
thought there was no God. But certainly he is traduced*; 
for his words are noble and divine: Non deos vulgi negare 
profanum; sed vulgi opiniones diis applicare profanum 
[There is no profanity in refusing to believe in the gods of 
the people : the profanity is in believing of the gods what the 
people believe of them]. Plato could have said no more. 
And although he had the confidence to deny the admin- 
istration, he had not the power to deny the nature. The 
Indians of the West have names for their particular gods, 
though they have no name for God : as if the heathens should 
have had the names Jupiter, Apollo, Mars, etc. but not the 
word Deus; which shows that even those barbarous people 
have the notion, though they have not the latitude and extent 
of it. So that against atheists the very savages take part 
with the very subtlest philosophers. The contemplative athe- 
ist is rare : a Diagoras, a Bion, a Lucian perhaps, and some 
others ; and yet they seem to be more than they are ; for that 

6 Profiteth. 



46 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

all that impugn a received religion or superstition are by 
the adverse part branded with the name of atheists. But 
the great atheists indeed are hypocrites; which are ever 
handling holy things, but without feeling; so as they must 
• needs be cauterized in the end. The causes of atheism are: 
divisions in religion, if they be many ; for any one main 
division addeth zeal to both sides; but many divisions intro- 
duce atheism. Another is, scandal of priests ; when it is 
come to that which St. Bernard saith, Non est jam dicere, 
ut populus sic sacerdos; quia nee sic populus nt sacerdos 
[One cannot now say the priest is as the people, for the truth 
is that the people are not so bad as the priest]. A third 
is, custom of profane scoffing in holy matters; which doth 
by little and little deface the reverence of religion. And 
lastly, learned times, specially with peace and prosperity; 
for troubles and adversities do more bow men's minds to 
religion. They that deny a God destroy man's nobility; for 
certainly man is of kin to the beasts by his tfody; and, if he 
be not of kin to God by his spirit, he is a base and ignoble 
creature. It destroys likewise magnanimity, and the raising 
of human nature; for take an example of a dog, and mark 
what a generosity and courage he will put on w^hen he finds 
himself maintained by a man; who to him is instead of a God, 
or melior natura [better nature] ; which courage is manifestly 
such as that creature, without that confidence of a better 
nature than his own, could never attain. So man, when he 
resteth and assureth himself upon divine protection and 
favor, gathered a force and faith which human nature in 
itself could not obtain. Therefore, as atheism is in all re- 
spects hateful, so in this, that it depriveth human nature 
of the means to exalt itself above human frailty. As it is 
in particular persons, so it is in nations. Never was there 
such a state for magnanimity as Rome. Of this state hear 
what Cicero saith: Quam vohmms licet, p'atres conscripti, 
nos amemiis, tamen nee numero Hispanos, nee robore Gallos, 
nee calliditade Poenos, nee artihiis Grcecos, nee denique hoc 
ipso hujus gentis et terrce domestico nativoque sensu Italos 
ipsos et Latinos; sed pietate, ac religione, atque hac una 
sapientia, quod deorum imniortalium numine omnia regi gu- 
hernarique perspeximus, omnes gentes nationesque supera- 



OF SUPERSTITION 47 

vimus [Pride ourselves as we may upon our country, yet 
are we not in number superior to the Spaniards, nor in 
strength to the Gauls, nor in cunning to the Carthaginians, 
not to the Greeks in arts, nor to the Italians and Latins 
themselves in the homely and native sense which belongs to 
this nation and land; it is in piety only and religion, and the 
wisdom of regarding the providence of the immortal gods 
as that which rules and governs all things, that we have sur- 
passed all nations and peoples]. 



XVII 

OF SUPERSTITION 

It were better to have no opinion of God at all, than such 
an opinion as is unworthy of him. For the one is unbelief, 
the other is contumely; and certainly superstition is the 
reproach of the Deity. Plutarch saith well to that purpose : 
Surely (saith he) / had rather a great deal men should say 
there zvas no such man at all as Plutarch, than that they 
should say that there was one Plutarch that zvould eat his 
children as soon as they were born; as the poets speak of 
Saturn. And as the contumely is greater towards God, 
so the danger is greater towards men. Atheism leaves a man 
to sense, to philosophy, to natural piety, to laws, to repu- 
tation; all which may be guides to an outward moral virtue, 
though religion were not; but superstition dismounts all 
these, and erecteth an absolute monarchy in the minds of men. 
Therefore atheism did never perturb states; for it makes 
men wary of themselves, as looking no further : and we see 
the times inclined to atheism (as the time of Augustus 
Caesar) were civil^ times. But superstition hath been the 
confusion of many states, and bringeth in a new primum 
mobile,^ that ravisheth all the spheres of government. The 
master of superstition is the people ; and in all superstition 
wise men follow fools; and arguments are fitted to practice, 
in a reversed order. It was gravely said by some of the 
prelates in the Council of Trent, where the doctrine of the 
Schoolmen bare great sway, that the Schoolmen were like 

1 Peaceful. ^ See Essay xv., n. 3. 



48 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

astronomers^ which did feign eccentrics and epicycles,* and 
such engines* of orbs, to save^ the phenomena ; though they 
knew there were no such things; and in like manner, that the 
Schoolmen had framed a number of subtle and intricate 
axioms and theorems, to save the practice of the church. 
The causes of superstition are : pleasing and sensual rites and 
ceremonies ; excess of outward and pharisacial holiness ; over- 
great reverence of traditions, which cannot but load the church; 
the stratagems of prelates for their own ambition and lucre; 
the favoring too much of good intentions, which openeth the 
gate to conceits and novelties; the taking an aim at divine 
matters by human, which cannot but breed mixture of im- 
aginations: and, lastly, barbarous times, especially joined 
with calamities and disasters. Superstition, without a veil, 
is a deformed thing; for as it addeth deformity to an ape 
to be so like a man, so the similitude of superstition to re- 
ligion makes it the more deformed. And as wholesome meat 
corrupteth to little worms, so good forms and orders corrupt 
into a number of petty observances. There is a superstition 
in avoiding superstition, when men think to do best if they 
go furthest from the superstition formerly received; there- 
fore care would be had that (as it fareth in ill purgings) 
the good be not taken away with the bad; which com- 
monly is done when the people is the reformer. 



XVIII 

OF TRAVEL 

Travel^ in the younger sort, is a part of education, in the 
elder, a part of experience. He that travelleth into a country 
before he hath some entrance into the language, goeth to 
school, and not to travel. That young men travel under some 
tutor, or grave servant, I allow^ well; so that he be such 
a one that hath the language, and hath been in the country 
before ; whereby he may be able to tell them what things are 

3 According to the Ptolemaic astronomy, the planets moved in circles 
called epicycles, the centers of which also moved in circles called eccentrics, 
because their centers were outside the earth. 

* Machinery. ^ Account for. ^ Approve. 



OF TRAVEL 49 

worthy to be seen in the country where they go; what ac- 
quaintances they are to seek; what exercises or discipline 
the place yieldeth. For else young men shall go hooded, 
and look abroad little. It is a strange thing, that in sea 
voyages, where there is nothing to be seen but sky and sea, 
men should make diaries; but in land-travel, wherein so 
much is to be observed, for the most, part they omit it ; as 
if chance were fitter to be registered than observation. Let 
diaries therefore be brought in use. The things to be seen 
and observed are : the courts of princes, especially when they 
give audience to ambassadors; the courts of justice, while 
they sit and hear causes; and so of consistories ecclesiastic; 
the churches and monasteries, with the monuments which 
are therein extant; the walls and fortifications of cities and 
towns, and so the havens and harbors ; antiquities and ruins ; 
libraries ; colleges, disputations, and lectures, where any are ; 
shipping and navies ; houses and gardens of state and pleasure, 
near great cities ; armories ; arsenals ; magazines ; exchanges ; 
burses; warehouses; exercises of horsemanship, fencing, 
training of soldiers, and the like; comedies, such whereunto 
the better sort of persons do resort; treasuries of jewels and 
robes; cabinets and rarities; and, to conclude, whatsoever 
is m.emorable in the places where they go. After all which 
the tutors or servants ought to make diligent inquiry. As 
for triumphs, masks, feasts, weddings, funerals, capital 
executions, and such shows, men need not to be put in mind 
of them ; yet are they not to be neglected. If you will have 
a young man to put his travel into a little room, and in short 
time to gather much, this you must do. First, as was said, 
he must have some entrance into the language before he 
goeth. Then he must have such a servant or tutor as 
knoweth the country, as was likewise said. Let him carry 
with him also some card" or book describing the country 
where he travelleth ; which will be a good key to his inquiry. 
Let him keep also a diary. Let him not stay long in one 
city or town; more or less as the place deserveth, but not 
long; nay, when he stayeth in one city or town, let him 
change his lodging from one end and part of the town 
to another; which is a great adamant^ of acquaintance. Let 

2 Map. 2 Loadstone. 



iJllilA 



50 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

him sequester himself from the company of his countrymen, 
and diet in such places where there is good company of the 
nation where he travelleth. Let him, upon his removes from 
one place to another, procure recommendation to some person 
of quality residing in the place whither he removeth; that 
he may use his favor in those things he desireth to see or 
know. Thus he may abridge his travel with much profit. 
As for the acquaintance which is to be sought in travel; 
that which is most of all profitable is acquaintance with the 
secretaries and employed men of ambassadors : for so in trav- 
elling in one country he shall suck the experience of many. 
Let him also see and visit eminent persons in all kinds, which 
are of great name abroad; that he may be able to tell how 
the life agreeth with the fame. For quarrels, they are with 
care and discretion to be avoided. They are commonly for 
mistresses, healths, place, and words. And let a man beware 
how he keepeth company with choleric and quarrelsome 
persons; for they will engage him into their own quarrels. 
When a traveller returneth home, let him not leave the 
countries where he hath travelled altogther behind him; 
but maintain a correspondence by letters with those of his 
acquaintance which are of most worth. And let his travel 
appear rather in his discourse than his apparel or gesture; 
and in his discourse let him be rather advised in his answers, 
than forward to tell stories; and let it appear that he doth 
not change his country manners for those of foreign parts; 
but only prick in some flowers of that he hath learned abroad 
into the customs of his own country. 



XIX 

OF EMPIRE 

It is a miserable state of mind to have few things to desire, 
and many things to fear; and yet that commonly is the case 
of kings; who, being at the highest, want matter of desire, 
which makes their minds more languishing; and have many 
representations of perils and shadows, which makes their 
minds the less clear. And this is one reason also of that 



OF EMPIRE 51 

effect which the Scripture speaketh of, That the king's heart 
is inscrutable. For multitude of jealousies, and lack of 
some predominant desire that should marshal and put in 
order all the rest, maketh any man's heart hard to find or 
sound. Hence it comes likewise, that princes many times 
make themselves desires, and set their hearts upon toys; 
sometimes upon a building; sometimes upon erecting of an 
order; sometimes upon the advancing of a person; some- 
times upon obtaining excellency in some art or feat of the 
hand ; as Nero for playing on the harp, Domitian for certainty 
of the hand with the arrow, Commodus for playing at fence, 
Caracalla for driving chariots, and the like. This seemeth 
incredible unto those that know not the principle that the 
mind of man is more cheered and refreshed by profiting in 
small things, than by standing at a stay in great. We see also 
that kings that have been fortunate conquerors in their first 
years, it being not possible for them to go forward infinitely, 
but that they must have some check or arrest in their 
f6rtunes, turn in their latter years to be superstitious and 
melancholy; as did Alexander the Great; Diocletian; and 
in our memory, Charles the Fifth; and others: for he that 
is used to go forward, and findeth a stop, falleth out of his 
own favor, and is not the thing he was. 

To speak now of the true temper^ of empire, it is a thing 
rare and hard to keep ; for both temper and distemper con- 
sist of contraries. But it is one thing to mingle contraries, 
another to interchange them. The answer of Apollonius 
to Vespasian is full of excellent instruction. Vespasian 
asked him, What'zvas Nero's overthrow f He answered, 
Nero could touch and tune the harp well; but in govern- 
ment sometimes he used to wind the pins too high, sometimes 
to let them down too low. And certain it is that nothing 
destroyeth authority so much as the unequal and untimely 
interchange of power pressed too far, and relaxed too 
much. 

This is true, that the wisdom of all these latter times in 
princes' affairs is rather fine deliveries and shiftings of dan- 
gers and mischiefs when they are near, than solid and 
grounded courses to keep them aloof. But this is but to try 

^ Proportion. 



52 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

masteries with fortune. And let men beware how they neg- 
lect and suffer matter of trouble to be prepared; for no man 
can forbid the spark, nor tell whence it may come. The 
difficulties in princes' business are many and great; but the 
greatest difficulty is often in their own mind. For it is com- 
mon with princes (saith Tacitus) to will contradictories, 
Sunt plerumque regum vohintates vehementes, et inter se 
contraries [Their desires are commonly vehement and incom- 
patible one with another]. For it is the solecism^ of power, 
to think to command the end, and yet not to endure the mean. 

Kings have to deal with their neighbors, their wives, their 
children, their prelates or clergy, their nobles, their second- 
nobles or gentlemen, their merchants, their commons, and 
their men of war; and from all these arise dangers, if care 
and circumspection be not used. 

First for their neighbors; there can no general rule 
be given (the occasions are so variable), save one, which 
ever holdeth; which is, that princes do keep due sentinel, 
that none of their neighbors do ever grow so (by increase 
of territory, by embracing of trade, by approaches, or the 
like), as they become more able to annoy them than they 
were. And this is generally the work of Standing counsels 
to foresee and to hinder it. During that triumvirate of kings, 
King Henry the Eighth of England, Francis the First King 
of France, and Charles the Fifth Emperor, there was such 
a watch kept, that none of the three could win a palm of 
ground, but the other two would straightways balance it, 
either by confederation, or, if need were, by a war ; and would 
not in any wise take up peace at interest. And the like was 
done by that league (which GuicciardinI saith was the se- 
curity of Italy) made between Ferdinando King of Naples, 
Lorenzius Medici, and Ludovicus Sforza, potentates, the one 
of Florence, the other of Milan. Neither is the opinion of 
some of the Schoolmen to be received, that a war cannot 
justly he made but upon a precedent injury or provocation. 
For there is no question but a just fear of an imminent 
danger, though there be no blow given, is a lawful cause 
of a war. 

For their wives ; there are cruel examples of them. Livia 

2 Absurd mistake. 



OF EMPIRE 53 

is infamed for the poisoning of her husband; Roxalana, 
Solyman's wife, was the destruction of that renowned prince 
Sultan Mustapha, and otherwise troubled his house and suc- 
cession; Edward the Second of England his queen had the 
principal hand in the deposing and murther of her husband. 
This kind of danger is then to be feared chiefly, when the 
wives have plots for the raising of their own children; 
or else that they be advoutresses.^ 

For their children; the tragedies likewise of dangers from 
them have been many. And generally, the entering of fathers 
into suspicion of their children hath been ever unfortunate. 
The destruction of Mustapha (that we named before) was 
so fatal to Solyman's line, as the succession of the Turks 
from Solyman until this day is suspected to be untrue, and 
of strange blood; for that Selymus the Second was thought 
to be suppositious. The destruction of Crispus, a young 
prince of rare towardness, by Constantinus the Great, his 
father, was in Hke manner fatal to his house; for both Con- 
stantinus and Constance, his sons died violent deaths ; and 
Constantius, his other son, did little better; who died indeed 
of sickness, but after that JuHanus had taken arms against 
him. The destruction of Demetrius, son to Philip the Second 
of Macedon, turned upon the father, who died of repentance. 
And many like examples there are; but few or none where 
the fathers had good by such distrust ; except it were where 
the sons were up in open arms against them ; as was Selymus 
the First against Bajazet; and the three sons of Henry the 
Second, King of England. 

For their prelates; when they are proud and great, there 
is also danger from them; as it was in the times of Ansel- 
mus and Thomas Becket, Archbishops of Canterbury; who 
with their croziers did almost try it with the king's sword; 
and yet they had to deal with stout and haughty kings, 
William Rufus, Henry the First, and Henry the Second. 
The danger is not from that state, but where it hath a depend- 
ence of foreign authority; or where the churchmen come in 
and are elected, not by the collation of the king, or particular 
patrons, but by the people. 

For their nobles; to keep them at a distance, it is not 

HCm 3 Adulteresses. 



54 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

amiss ; but to depress them, may make a king more absolute, 
but less safe; and less able to perform any thing that he 
desires. I have noted it in my History of King Henry the 
Seventh of England,, who depressed his nobility; whereupon 
it came to pass that his times were full of difficulties and 
troubles; for the nobility, though they continued loyal unto 
him, yet did they not co-operate with him in his business. 
So that in effect he was fain to do all things himself. 

For their second-nobles; there is not much danger from 
them, being a body dispersed. They may sometimes dis- 
course high, but that doth little hurt; besides, they are a 
counterpoise to the higher nobility, that they grow not too 
potent; and, lastly, being the most immediate in authority 
with the common people, they do best temper popular com- 
motions. 

For their merchants; they are vena porta ;^ and if they 
flourish not, a kingdom may have good limbs, but will have 
empty veins, and nourish little. Taxes and imposts upon 
them do seldom good to the king's revenue; for that that he 
wins in the hundred he leeseth^ in the shire; the particular 
rates being increased, but the total bulk of trading rather 
decreased. 

For their commons; there is little danger from them, 
except it be where they have great and potent heads; or 
where you meddle with the point of religion, or their customs, 
or means of life. 

For their men of war; it is a dangerous state where they 
live and remain in a body, and are used to donatives ; whereof 
we see examples in the janizaries,** and pretorian bands^ 
of Rome ; but trainings of men, and arming them in several 
places, and under several commanders, and without donatives, 
are things of defence, and no danger. 

Princes are like to heavenly bodies, which cause good 
or evil times; and which have much veneration, but no rest. 
All precepts concerning kings are in effect comprehended 
in those two remembrances: memento quod es homo; and me- 
mento quod es Deus, or vice Dei [Remember that you are 

* The " gate-vein," which Bacon regarded as distributing nourishment to 
the body. ^ Loseth. ^ Bodyguard of the Sultan. 
"' Bodyguard of the Roman emperors. 



OF COUNSEL 55 

a man; and remember that you are a God, or God's lieu- 
tenant] ; the one bridleth their power, and the other their will. 



XX 

OF COUNSEL 

The greatest trust between man and man is the trust of 
giving counsel. For in other confidences men commit the 
parts of life; their lands, their goods, their children, their 
credit, some particular affair; but to such as they make 
their counsellors, they commit the whole: by how much the 
more they are obliged to all faith and integrity. The 
wisest princes need not think it any diminution to their 
greatness, or derogation to their sufficiency, to rely upon 
counsel. God himself is not without, but hath made it one 
of the great names of his blessed Son: The Counsellor. 
Solomon hath pronounced that in counsel is stability. Things 
will have their first or second agitation : if they be not 
tossed upon the arguments of counsel, they will be tossed upon 
the waves of fortune; and be full of inconstancy, doing and 
undoing, like the reeling of a drunken man. Solomon's 
son found the force of counsel, as his father saw the neces- 
sity of it. For the beloved kingdom of God was first rent 
and broken by ill counsel; upon which counsel there are set 
for our instruction the two marks whereby bad counsel is 
for ever best discerned; that it was young counsel, for the 
persons; and violent counsel, for the matter. 

The ancient times do set forth in figure both the incor- 
poration and inseparable conjunction of counsel with kings, 
and the wise and politic use of counsel by kings : the one, in 
that they say Jupiter did marry Metis, which signifieth coun- 
sel; whereby they intend that Sovereignty is married to 
Counsel : the other in that which followeth, which was thus : 
They say, after Jupiter was married to Metis, she conceived 
by him and was with child, but Jupiter suffered her not to 
stay till she brought forth, but eat her up; whereby he be- 
came himself with child, and was delivered of Pallas armed, 
out of his head. Which monstrous fable containeth a secret 



56 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

of empire; how kings are to make use of their counsel of 
state. That first they ought to refer matters unto them, 
which is the first begetting or impregnation; but when they 
are elaborate, moulded, and shaped in the womb of their 
counsel, and grow ripe and ready to be brought forth, that 
then they suffer not their counsel to go through with the 
resolution and direction, as if it depended on them; but take 
the matter back into their own hands, and make it appear 
to the world that the decrees and final directions (which, 
because they come forth with prudence and power, are re- 
sembled to Pallas armed) proceeded from themselves; and 
not only from their authority, but (the more to add repu- 
tation to themselves) from their head and device. 

Let us now speak of the inconveniences of counsel, and 
of the remedies. The inconveniences that have been noted 
in calling and using counsel are three. First, the revealing 
of affairs, whereby they become less secret. Secondly, the 
weakening of the authority of princes, as if they were less 
of themselves. Thirdly, the danger of being unfaithfully 
counselled, and more for the 'good of them that counsel than 
of him that is counselled. For which inconveniences, the 
doctrine of Italy, and practice of France, in some kings' 
times, hath introduced cabinef counsels; a remedy worse 
than the disease. 

As to secrecy; princes are not bound to communicate all 
matters with all counsellors; but may extract and select. 
Neither is it necessary that he that consulteth what he should 
do, should declare what he will do. But let princes beware 
that the unsecreting of their affairs comes not from them- 
selves. And as for cabinet counsels, it may be their motto, 
plenus rimarum sum [I am full of leaks] : one futile^ person 
that maketh it his glory to tell, will do more hurt than 
many that know it their duty to conceal. It is true there 
be some affairs which require extreme secrecy, which will 
hardly go beyond one or two persons besides the king: 
neither are those counsels unprosperous ; for, besides the 
secrecy, they commonly go on constantly in one spirit of 
direction, without distraction. But then it must be a prudent 
king, such as is able to grind with a hand-mill ; and those 

1 Secret. 2 Babbling. 



OF COUNSEL 57 

inward counsellors had need also be wise men, and especially 
true and trusty to the king's ends; as it was with King 
Henry the Seventh of England, who in his greatest business 
imparted himself to none, except it were to Morton and Fox. 

For weakening of authority ; the fable showeth the remedy. 
Nay, the majesty of kings is rather exalted than diminished 
when they are in the chair of counsel; neither was there 
ever prince bereaved of his dependences by his counsel; ex- 
cept where there hath been either an jover-greatness in one 
counsellor or an over-strict combination in divers ; which are 
things soon found and holpen.^ 

For the last inconvenience, that men will counsel with an 
eye to themselves ; certainly, non inveniet Udem super terram 
[he will not find faith on the earth] is meant of the nature 
of times, and not of all particular persons. There be that 
are in nature faithful, and sincere, and plain, and direct; 
not crafty and involved ; let princes, above all, draw to them- 
selves such natures. Besides, counsellors are not commonly 
so united, but that one counsellor keepeth sentinel over 
another; so that if any do counsel out of faction or private 
ends, it commonly comes to the king's ear. But the best 
remedy is, if princes know their counsellors, as well as their 
counsellors know them: 

Principis est virtus maxima nosse suos. 
[It is the greatest virtue of a prince to know his own.] And 
on the other side, counsellors should not be too speculative* 
into their sovereign's person. The true composition of a 
counsellor is rather to be skilful in their master's business, 
than in his nature ; for then he is like to advise him, and not 
feed his humor. It is of singular use to princes if they take 
the opinions of their counsel both separately and together. 
For private opinion is more free; but opinion before others 
is more reverent. In private, men are more bold in their 
own humors; and in consort, men are more obnoxious^ to 
others' humors; therefore it is good to take both; and of 
the inferior sort rather in private, to preserve freedom; of 
the greater rather in consort, to preserve respect. It is in 
vain for princes to take counsel concerning matters, if they 
take no counsel likewise concerning persons ; for all matters 

^ Helped. * Inquisitive. ^ Subservient. 



58 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

are as dead images; and the life of the execution of affairs 
resteth in the good choice of persons. Neither is it enough 
to consult concerning persons secundum genera [according to 
classes], as in an idea, or mathematical description, what 
the kind and character of the person should be; for the 
greatest errors are committed, and the most judgment is 
shown, in the choice of individuals. It was truly said, 
optimi consiliarii mortui [the best counsellors are the dead] : 
books will speak plain when counsellors blanch.® There- 
fore it is good to be conversant in them, especially the 
books of such as themselves have been actors upon the 
stage. 

The counsels at this day in most places are but familiar 
meetings, where matters are rather talked on than debated. 
And they run too swift to the order or act of counsel. It 
were better that in causes of weight, the matter were pro- 
pounded one day and not spoken to till the next day; in 
node consilium [night is the season for counsel]. So was 
it done in the Commission of Union between England and 
Scotland; which was a grave and orderly assembly. I com- 
mend set days for petitions; for both it gives the suitors 
more certainty for their attendance, and it frees the meetings 
for matters of estate, that they may hoc agere [do this]. In 
choice of committees for ripening business for the counsel, 
it is better to choose indifferent' persons, than to make an 
indifferency by putting in those that are strong on both sides. 
I commend also standing commissions; as for trade, for 
treasure, for war, for suits, for some provinces; for where 
there be divers particular counsels and but one counsel of 
estate (as it is in Spain), they are, in effect, no more than 
standing commissions : save that they have greater authority. 
Let such as are to inform counsels out of their particular 
professions (as lawyers, seamen, mintmen, and the like) 
be first heard before committees ; and then, as occasion serves, 
before the counsel. And let them not come in multitudes, 
or in a tribunitious manner;^ for that is to clamor counsels, 
not to inform them. A long table and a square table, or 
seats about the walls, seem things of form, but are things of 
substance; for at a long table a few at the upper end, in 

8 Flatter. ' Impartial. ^ As demagogues. 



OF DELAYS 59 

effect, sway all the business; but in the other form there 
is more use of the counsellors' opinions that sit lower. A 
king, when he presides in counsel, let him beware how he 
opens his own inclination too much in that which he pro- 
poundeth ; for else counsellors will but take the wind of him, 
and instead of giving free counsel, sing him a song of 
placebo^ [I shall please]. 



XXI 

OF DELAYS 

Fortune is like the market; where many times, if you 
can stay a little, the price will fall. And again, it is some- 
times like Sibylla's offer; which at first offereth the com- 
modity at full, then consumeth part and part, and still holdeth 
up the price. For occasion (as it is in the common verse) 
turneth a bald noddle, after she hath presented her locks 
in front, and no hold taken; or at least turneth the handle 
of the bottle first to be received, and after the belly, which 
is hard to clasp. There is surely no greater wisdom than 
well to time the beginnings and onsets of things. Dangers 
are no more light, if they once seem light ; and more dangers 
have deceived men than forced them. Nay, it were better 
to meet some dangers half way, though they come nothing 
near, than to keep too long a watch upon their approaches; 
for if a man watch too long, it is odds he will fall asleep. 
On the other side, to be deceived with too long shadows (as 
some have been when the moon was low and shone on their 
enemies' back), and so to shoot off before the time; or to 
teach dangers to come on, by over early buckling towards them ; 
is another extreme. The ripeness or unripeness of the oc- 
casion (as we said) must ever be well weighed; and gener- 
ally it is good to commit the beginnings of all great actions 
to Argus with his hundred eyes, and the ends to Briareus 
with his hundred hands; first to watch, and then to speed. 
For the helmet of Pluto, which maketh the politic man^ go 
invisible, is secrecy in the counsel and celerity in the ex- 
ecution. For when things are once come to the execution, 

» Flattery. i Politician. 



60 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

there is no secrecy comparable to celerity; like the motion 
of a bullet in the air, which flieth so swift as it outruns 
the eye. 



XXII 

OF CUNNING 

We take cunning for a sinister or crooked wisdom. And 
certainly there is "a great difference between a cunning man 
and a wise man; not only in point of honesty, but in point 
of ability. There be that can pack the cards, and yet can- 
not play well ; so there are some that are good in canvasses 
and factions, that are otherwise weak men. Again, it is 
one thing to understand persons, and another thing to under- 
stand matters; for many are perfect in men's humors, that 
are not greatly capable of the real part of business; which 
is the constitution of one that hath studied men more than 
books. Such men are fitter for practice than for counsel ; 
and they are good but in their own alley '^ turn them to new 
men, and they have lost their aim; so as the old rule to 
know a fool from a wise man, Mitte amhos nudos ad ignotos, 
et videbis [Send them both naked to those they know not, 
and you will see]^ doth scarce hold for them. And because 
these cunning men are like haberdashers of small wares, 
it is not amiss to set forth their shop. 

It is a point of cunning, to wait upon him with whom 
you speak, with your eye; as the Jesuits give it in precept: 
for there be many wise men that have secret hearts and 
transparent countenances. Yet this would be done with 
a demure abasing of your eye sometimes, as the Jesuits 
also do use. 

Another is, that when you have anything to obtain of 
present despatch, you entertain and amuse the party with 
whom you deal with some other discourse; that he be not 
too much avv^ake to make objections. I knew a counsellor 
and secretary, that never came to Queen Elizabeth of England 
with bills to sign, but he would always first put her into some 
discourse of estate, that she mought" the less mind the bills. 

1 Bowling-alley. 2 Might. 



OF CUNNING 61 

The like surprise may be made by moving things when 
the party is in haste, and cannot stay to consider advisedly 
of that is moved. 

If a man would cross a business that he doubts some other 
would handsomely and effectually move, let him pretend 
to wish it well, and move it himself in such sort as may 
foil it. 

The breaking off in the midst of that one was about to 
say, as if he took himself up, breeds a greater appetite in 
him with whom you confer, to know more. 

And because it works better when anything seemeth to be 
gotten from you by question, than if you offer it of your- 
self, you may lay a bait for a question, by showing another 
visage and countenance than you are wont; to the end to 
give occasion for the party to ask what the matter is of 
the change? As Nehemias did; And I had not before that 
time been sad before the king. 

In things that are tender and unpleasing, it is good to 
break the ice by some whose words are of less weight, and 
to reserve the more weighty voice to come in as by chance, 
so that he may be asked the question upon the other's speech : 
as Narcissus did, relating to Claudius the marriage of 
Messalina and Silius. 

In things that a man would not be seen in himself, it is 
a point of cunning to borrow the name of the world; as to 
say, The world says, or There is a speech abroad. 

I knew one that, when he wrote a letter, he would put that 
which was most material in the postscript, as if it had been 
a by-matter. 

I knew another that, when he came to have speech, he 
would pass over that that he intended most; and go forth, 
and come back again, and speak of it as of a thing that 
he had almost forgot. 

Some procure themselves to be surprised at such times 
as it is like the party that they work upon will suddenly come 
upon them; and to be found with a letter in their hand, or 
doing somewhat which they are not accustomed; to the end 
they may be apposed^ of those things which of themselves 
they are desirous to utter. 

3 Questioned. 



62 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

It is a point of cunning, to let fall those words in a man's 
own name, which he would have another man learn and 
use, and thereupon take advantage. I knew two that were 
competitors for the secretary's place in Queen Elizabeth's 
time, and yet kept good quarter* between themselves; and 
would confer one with another upon the business ; and the one 
of them said, That to be a secretary in the declination of a 
monarchy was a ticklish thing, and that he did not affect' 
it: the other straight caught up those words and discoursed 
with divers of his friends, that he had no reason to desire 
to be secretary in the declination of a monarchy. The first 
man took hold of it, and found means it was told the Queen ; 
who hearing of a declination of a monarchy, took it so ill as 
she would never after hear of the other's suit. 

There is a cunning, which we in England call the turning 
of the cat"^ in the pan; which is, when that which a man says 
to another, he lays it as if another had said it to him. And 
to say truth, it is not easy, when such a matter passed 
between two, to make it appear from which of them it first 
moved and began. 

It is a way that some men have, to glance and dart at 
others by justifying themselves by negatives; as to say, 
This I do not; as Tigellinus did towards Burrhus, Se non 
diversas spes, sed incolumitatem imperatoris simpliciter spec- 
tare [That he had not several hopes to rest on, but looked 
smiply to the safety of the Emperor.] 

Some have in readiness so many tales and stories, as there 
is nothing they would insinuate, but they can wrap it into 
a tale ; which serveth both to keep themselves more in guard, 
and to make others carry it with more pleasure. 

It is a good point of cunning for a man to shape the 
answer he would have in his own words and propositions; 
for it makes the other party stick the less. 

It is strange how long some men will lie in wait to speak 
somewhat they desire to say; and how far about they will 
fetch; and how many other matters they will beat over, 
to come near it. It is a thing of great patience, but yet 
of much use. 

A sudden, bold, and unexpected question doth many times 

* Relations. ^ Desire. ^ Cate or cake. 



OF WISDOM FOR A MAN'S SELF 63 

surprise a man, and lay him open. Like to him that, having 
changed his name and walking in Paul's,' another suddenly 
came behind him and called him by his true name, whereat 
straightways he looked back. 

But these small wares and petty points of cunning are in- 
finite ; and it were good deed to make a list of them ; for that 
nothing doth more hurt in a state than that cunning men 
pass for wise. 

But certainly some there are that know the resorts and 
falls** of business, that cannot sink into the main of it; like 
a house that hath convenient stairs and entries, but never 
a fair room. Therefore you shall see them find out pretty 
looses" in the conclusion, but are no ways able to examine 
or debate matters. And yet commonly they take advantage 
of their inability, and would be thought wits of direction.*" 
Some build rather upon the abusing of others, and (as 
we now say) putting tricks upon them, than upon soundness 
of their own proceedings. But Solomon saith, Prudens ad- 
vertit ad gressus suos; stultus divertit ad dolos [The wise 
taketh heed to his steps; the fool turneth aside to deceits.] 



XXIII 

OF WISDOM FOR A MAN'S SELF 

An ant is a wise creature for itself, but it is a shrewd^ 
thing in an orchard or garden. And certainly men that are 
great lovers of themselves waste the public. Divide with reason 
between self-love and society; and be so true to thyself, 
as thou be not false to others; specially to thy king and 
country. It is a poor centre of a man's actions, himself. 
It is right earth.^ For that only stands fast upon his own 
centre ; whereas all things that have affinity with the heavens 
move upon the centre of another, which they benefit. The 
referring of all to a man's self is more tolerable in a sover- 
eign prince; because themselves are not only themselves but 

\ St. Paul's Cathedral, then a fashionable promenade. ^ Entrances and 

exits. » Shots. ^° Clever at directing others. ^ Mischievous. 

2 Precisely like the earth. Bacon here is thinking of the old astronomy, 
according to which all the heavenly bodies moved round the earth. 



64 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

their good and evil is at the peril of the public fortune. But 
it is a desperate evil in a servant to a prince, or a citizen 
in a republic. For whatsoever affairs pass such a man's 
hands, he crooketh them to his own ends; which must needs 
be often eccentric to^ the ends of his master or state. There- 
fore let princes, or states, choose such servants as have not 
this mark; except they mean their service should be made 
but the accessory. That which maketh the effect more 
pernicious is that all proportion is lost. It were disproportion 
enough for the servant's good to be preferred before the 
master's; but yet it is a greater extreme, when a little good 
of the servant shall carry things against a great good of the 
master's. And yet that is the case of bad officers, treasurers, 
ambassadors, generals, and other false and corrupt servants; 
which set a bias* upon their bowl, of their own petty ends 
and envies, to the overthrow of their master's great and 
important affairs. And for the most part, the good such 
servants receive is after the model" of their own fortune; 
but the hurt they sell for that good is after the model of 
their master's fortune. And certainly it is the nature of 
extreme self-lovers, as they will set an house on fire, and it 
were but to roast their eggs ; and yet these men many times 
hold credit with their masters, because their study is but to 
please them and profit themselves; and for either respect 
they will abandon the good of their affairs. 

Wisdom for a man's self is, in many branches thereof, 
a depraved thing. It is the wisdom of rats, that will be sure 
to leave a house somewhat before it fall. It is the wisdom 
of the fox, that thrusts out the badger, who digged and made 
room for him. It is the wisdom of crocodiles, that shed 
tears when they would devour. But that which is specially 
to be noted is, that those which (as Cicero says of Pompey) 
are sui amantes, sine rivali [lovers of themselves without 
a rival] are many times unfortunate. And whereas they 
have all their times sacrificed to themselves, they become in 
the end themselves sacrifices to the inconstancy of fortune, 
whose wings they sought by their self-wisdom to have 
pinioned. 

' Have a different center from. * A weight let into one side, to make 

the bowl describe a curve. ^ Scale. 



OF INNOVATIONS 65 

XXIV 

OF INNOVATIONS 

As the births of living creatures at first are ill-shapen, so 
are all innovations, which are the births of time. Yet 
notwithstanding, as those that first bring honor into their 
family are commonly more worthy than most that succeed, 
so the first precedent (if it be good) is seldom attained by 
imitation. For ill, to man's nature as it stands perverted, 
hath a natural motion, strongest in continuance; but good, 
as a forced motion, strongest at first. Surely every medicine 
is an innovation; and he that will not apply new remedies 
must expect new evils; for time is the greatest innovator; 
and if time of course^ alter things to the worse, and wisdom 
and counsel shall not alter them to the better, what shall 
be the end? It is true, that what is settled by custom, 
though it be not good, yet at least it is fit; and those things 
which have long gone together are as it were confederate 
within themselves; whereas new things piece not so well; 
but though they help by their utility, yet they trouble by 
their inconformity. Besides, they are like strangers; more 
admired and less favored. All this is true, if time stood 
still ; which contrariwise moveth so round, that a froward^ 
retention of custom is as turbulent a thing as an innovation ; 
and they that reverence too much old times are but a scorn 
to the new. It were good therefore that men in their in- 
novations would follow the example of time itself; which 
indeed innovateth greatly, but quietly, by degrees scarce 
to be perceived. For otherwise, whatsover is new is un- 
looked for; and ever it mends some, and pairs^ other; and 
he that is holpen takes it for a fortune, and thanks the time ; 
and he that is hurt, for a wrong, and imputeth it to the 
author. It is good also not to try experiments in states, 
except the necessity be urgent, or the utility evident; and 
well to beware that it be the reformation that draweth on 
the change, and not the desire of change that pretendeth 
the reformation. And lastly, that the novelty, though it be 
not rejected, yet be held for a suspect; and, as the Scripture 

1 By its course. 2 Stubborn. ^ Impairs. 



66 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

saith, that we make a stand upon the ancient way, and then 
look about us, and discover what is the straight and right 
way, and so to walk in it. 



XXV 

OF DISPATCH 

Affected^ dispatch is one of the most dangerous things 
to business that can be. It is like that which the physicians 
call predigestion, or hasty digestion; which is sure to fill the 
body full of crudities and secret seeds of diseases. There- 
fore measure not dispatch by the times of sitting, but by the 
advancement of the business. And as in races it is not the 
large stride or high lift that makes the speed ; so in business, 
the keeping close to the matter, and not taking of it too much 
at once, procureth dispatch. It is the care of some only 
to come off speedily for the time; or to contrive some false 
periods^ of business, because they may seem men of dispatch. 
But it is one thing to abbreviate by contracting, another 
by cutting off. And business so handled at several sittings 
or meetings goeth commonly backward and forward in an 
unsteady manner. I knew a wise man that had it for a 
by-word, when he saw men hasten to a conclusion, S'tay 
a little, that we may make an end the sooner. 

On the other side, true dispatch is a rich thing. For time 
is the measure of business, as money is of wares; and 
business is bought at a dear hand where there is small dis- 
patch. The Spartans and Spaniards have been noted to be 
of small dispatch; Mi venga la muerte de Spagna; Let my 
death come from Spain; for then it will be sure to be long 
in coming. 

Give good hearing to those that give the first information 
in business; and rather direct them in the beginning than 
interrupt them in the continuance of their speeches; for he 
that is put out of his own order will go forward and back- 
ward, and be more tedious while he waits upon his memory, 
than he could have been if he had gone on in his own 

1 Excessively desired. ^ Only apparently finished. 



OF SEEMING WISE 67 

course. But sometimes it is seen that the moderator is 
more troublesome than the actor. 

Iterations are commonly loss of time. But there is no 
such gain of time as to iterate often the state of the question ; 
for it chaseth away many a frivolous speech as it is coming 
forth. Long and curious^ speeches are as fit for dispatch, 
as a robe or mantle with a long train. is for race. Prefaces 
and passages,* and excusations, and other speeches of refer- 
ence to the person, are great wastes of time ; and though 
they seem to proceed of modesty, they are bravery.^ Yet 
beware of being too material^ when there is any impediment 
or obstruction in men's wills; for pre-occupation of mind 
ever requireth preface of speech; like a fomentation to 
make the unguent enter. 

Above all things, order, and distribution, and singling out 
of parts, is the life of dispatch; so as the distribution be not 
too subtle : for he that doth not divide will never enter well 
into business ; and he that divideth too much will never come 
out of it clearly. To choose time is to save time; and an 
unseasonable motion is but beating the air. There be three 
parts of business ; the preparation, the debate or examination, 
and the perfection. Whereof, if you look for dispatch, let 
the middle only be the work of many, and the first and last 
the work of few. The proceeding upon somewhat conceived 
in writing doth for the most part facilitate dispatch: for 
though it should be wholly rejected, yet that negative is 
more pregnant of direction than an indefinite; as ashes 
are more generative than dust. 



XXVI 

OF SEEMING WISE 

It hath been an opinion that the French are wiser than 
they seem, and the Spaniards seem wiser than they are. But 
howsoever it be between nations, certainly it is so between 
man and man. For as the Apostle^ saith of godliness, Hav- 

3 Elaborate. * Transitions. ^ Showing off. 

^ Coming too soon to the point. ^ St. Paul, 



68 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

ing a show of godliness, but denying the power thereof; so 
certainly there are in point of wisdom and sufficiency, that 
do nothing or little very solemnly: magno conatu niigas 
[with great effort, trifles]. It is ridiculous thing and fit 
for a satire to persons of judgment, to see what shifts 
these formalists have, and what prospectives^ to make super- 
ficies [a surface] to seem body that hath depth and bulk. 
Some are so close and reserved, as they will not show their 
wares but by a dark light; and seem always to keep back 
somewhat; and when they know within themselves they 
speak of that they do not well know, would nevertheless 
seem to others to know of that which they may not well 
speak. Some help themselves with countenance and gesture, 
and are wise by signs ; as Cicero saith of Piso,that when he an- 
swered him, he fetched one of his brows up to his forehead, 
and bent the other down to his chin; Respondes, altero ad 
frontem sublato, altero ad mentuni depresso supercilio, cru- 
dclitatem tibi non placere [You answer, with one eyebrow 
lifted to the forehead and the other lowered to the chin, 
that cruelty does not please you]. Some think to bear it^ by 
speaking a great word, and being peremptory; and go on, 
and take by admittance that which they cannot make good.* 
Some, whatsoever it beyond their reach, will seem to despise 
or make light of it as impertinent^ or curious ;* and so would 
have their ignorance seem judgment. Some are never with- 
out a difference, and commonly by amusing men with a 
subtility, blanch' the matter; of whom A. Gellius saith, 
Hominem delirum, qui verb arum minutiis rerum f ran git 
pondera [A foolish man, that with verbal points and niceties 
breaks up the mass of matter]. Of which kind also, Plato 
in his Protagoras bringeth in Prodius in scorn, and maketh 
him make a speech that consisteth of distinctions from the 
beginning to the end. Generally, such men in all deliber- 
ations find ease to be of the negative side, and affect a credit 
to object and foretell difficulties; for when propositions are 
denied, there is end of them ; but if they be allowed, it re- 
quireth a new work; which false point of wisdom is the bane 
of business. To conclude, there is no decaying merchant, 

^ Stereoscopes. ^ Carry it off. * Assume what they can not prove. 

^ Irrelevant. ® Uselessly elaborate. '' Evade. 



OF FRIENDSHIP 69 

or inward* beggar, hath so many tricks to uphold the 
credit of their wealth, as these empty persons have to main- 
tain the credit of their sufficiency. Seeming wise men may 
make shift to get opinion; but let no man choose them for 
employment; for certainly you were better take for business 
a man somewhat absurd" than over-formal. 



XXVII 

OF FRIENDSHIP 

It had been hard for him that spake^ it to have put more 
truth and untruth together in few words, than in that speech. 
Whatsoever is delighted in solitude is either a wild beast 
or a god. For it is most true that a natural and secret 
hatred and aversation towards society in any man, hath 
somewhat of the savage beast; but it is most untrue that it 
should have any character at all of the divine nature ; except 
it proceed, not out of a pleasure in soltitude, but out of a 
love and desire to sequester a man's self for a higher con- 
versation:^ such as is found to have been falsely and 
feignedly in some of the heathen ; as Epimenides the Candian, 
Numa the Roman, Empedocles the Sicilian, and Apollonius 
of Tyana; and truly and really in divers of the ancient 
hermits and holy fathers of the church. But little do men 
perceive what solitude is, and how far it extendeth. For 
a crowd is not company; and faces are but a gallery of 
pictures; and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no 
love. The Latin adage meeteth with it a little: Magna 
civitas, magna solitndo [A great town is a great solitude] ; 
because in a great town friends are scattered; so that there 
is not that fellowship, for the most part, which is in less 
neighborhoods. But we may go further, and affirm most 
truly that it is a mere and miserable solitude to want true 
friends; without which the world is but a wilderness; and 
even In this sense also of solitude, whosoever in the frame 
of his nature and affections is unfit for friendship, he taketh 
it of the beast, and not from humanity. 

8 Secretly bankrupt. » Rough. i Aristotle. = Intercourse. 
Hcm 5 



70 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

A principal fruit of friendship is the ease and discharge 
of the fulness and swellings of the heart, which passions 
of all kinds do cause and induce. We know diseases of 
stoppings and suffocations are the most dangerous in the 
body; and it is not much otherwise in the mind; you may 
take sarza^ to open the liver, steel to open the spleen, flowers 
of sulphur for the lungs, castoreum for the brain; but no 
receipt openeth the heart, but a true friend; to whom you 
may impart griefs, joys, fears, hopes, suspicions, counsels, and 
whatsoever lieth upon the heart to oppress it, in a kind of 
civil shrift or confession. 

It is a strange thing to observe how high a rate great 
kings and monarchs do set upon this fruit of friendship 
whereof we speak: so great, as they purchase it many times 
at the hazard of their own safety and greatness. For 
princes, in regard of the distance of their fortune from that 
of their subjects and servants, cannot gather this fruit, except 
(to make themselves capable thereof) they raise some per- 
sons to be as it were companions and almost equals to them- 
selves, which many times sorteth to inconvenience. The mod- 
ern languages give unto such persons the name of favorites, 
or privadoes; as if it were matter of grace, or conversation. 
But the Roman name attaineth the true use and cause there- 
of, naming them participes curarum [partners of cares] ; for 
it is that which tieth the knot. And we see plainly that this 
hath been done, not by weak and passionate princes only, 
but by the wisest and most politic that ever reigned; who 
have oftentimes joined to themselves some of their servants; 
whom both themselves have called friends, and allowed 
others likewise to call them in the same manner; using the 
word which is received between private men. 

L. Sylla, when he commanded Rome, raised Pompey (after 
surnamed the Great) to that height, that Pompey vaunted 
himself for Sylla's over-match. For when he had carried 
the consulship for a friend of his, against the pursuit of 
Sylla, and that Sylla did a little resent thereat, and began 
to speak great, Pompey turned upon him again, and in effect 
bade him be quiet; for that more men adored the sun rising 
than the sun setting. With Julius Caesar, Decimus Brutus 

s Sarsaparilla. , 



OF FRIENDSHIP 71 

had obtained that interest, as he set him down in his testa- 
ment for heir in remainder after his nephew. And this was 
the man that had power with him to draw him forth to his 
death. For when Caesar would have discharged the senate, 
in regard of some ill presages, and specially a dream of Cal- 
purnia; this man lifted him gently by the arm out of his 
chair, telling him. he hoped he would not dismiss the senate 
till his wife had dreamt a better dream. And it seemeth 
his favor was so great, as Antonius, in a letter which is 
recited verbatim in one of Cicero's Philippics, calleth him 
venciica, witch; as if he had enchanted Caesar. Augustus 
raised Agrippa (though of mean birth) to that height, as 
when he consulted with Maecenas about the marriage of his 
daughter Julia, Maecenas took the liberty to tell him, that 
he must either marry his daughter to Agrippa, or take away 
his life; there zvas no third zvay, he had made him so great. 
With Tiberius Caesar, Sejanus had ascended to that height, 
as they two were termed and reckoned as a pair of friends. 
Tiberius in a letter to him saith, Hcec pro amicitid nostra non 
occultavi [These things, as our friendship required, I have 
not concealed from you] ; and the whole senate dedicated 
an altar to Friendship, as to a goddess, in respect of the 
great dearness of friendship between them two. The like 
or more was between Septimius Severus and Plautianus. 
For he forced his eldest son to marry the daughter of Plau- 
tianus; and would often maintain Plautianus !n doing 
affronts to his son ; and did write also in a letter to the senate, 
by these words: / love the man so well, as I zvish he may 
over-live me. Now if these princes had been as a Trajan 
or a Marcus Aurelius, a man might have thought that this 
had proceeded of an abundant goodness of nature ; but being 
men so wise, of such strength and severity of mind, and 
so extreme lovers of themselves, as all these were, it proveth 
most plainly that they found their own felicity (though as 
great as ever happened to mortal men) but as an half piece,* 
except they mought have a friend to make it entire ; and yet, 
which is more, they were princes that had wives, sons, 
nephews; and yet all these could not supply the comfort of 
friendship. 

* Coin cut in two. 



72 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

It is not to be forgotten what Comineus observeth of his 
first master, Duke Charles the Hardy ; namely, that he would 
communicate his secrets with none; and least of all, those 
secrets which troubled him most. Whereupon he goeth on 
and saith that towards his latter time that closeness^ did 
impair and a little perish his understanding. Surely Comi- 
neus mought have made the same judgment also, if it had 
pleased him, of his second master, Lewis the Eleventh, whose 
closeness was indeed his tormentor. The parable^ of Pythag- 
oras is dark, but true; Cor ne edito; Eat not the heart. 
Certainly, if a man would give it a hard phrase, those that 
want friends to open themselves unto are cannibals of their 
own hearts. But one thing is most admirable (wherewith 
I will conclude this first fruit of friendship), which is, that 
this communicating of a man's self to his friend works two 
contrary effects; for it redoubleth joys, and cutteth griefs 
in halves. For there is no man that imparteth his joys to 
his friend, but he joyeth the more; and no man that imparteth 
his griefs to his friend, but he grieveth the less. So that it 
is in truth of operation upon a man's mind, of like virtue 
as the alchemists use to attribute to their stone' for man's 
body; that it worketh all contrary effects, but still to the 
good and benefit of nature. But yet without praying in aid 
of alchemists, there is a manifest image of this in the ordi- 
nary course of nature. For in bodies, union strengthened and 
cherisheth any natural action; and on the other side weak- 
eneth and dulleth any violent impression: and even so it 
is of minds. 

The second fruit of friendship is healthful and sovereign 
for the understanding, as the first is for the affections. For 
friendship maketh indeed a fair day in the affections, from 
storm and tempests; but it maketh daylight in the under- 
standing, out of darkness and confusion of thoughts. Neither 
is this to be understood only of faithful counsel, which a man 
receiveth from his friend; but before you come to that, 
certain it is that whosoever hath his mind fraught with many 
thoughts, his wits and understanding do clarify and break up, 
in the communicating and discoursing with another; he 
tosseth his thoughts more easily; he marshalleth them more 
^ Secretiveness. ^ Proverb. ' The *' philosopher's stone." 



OF FRIENDSHIP 73 

orderly; he seeth how they look when they are turned into 
words : finally, he waxeth wiser than himself ; and that more 
by an hour's discourse than by a day's meditation. It was 
well said by Themistocles to the king of Persia, That speech 
was like cloth of Arras, opened and put abroad; whereby the 
imagery doth appear in figure f whereas in thoughts they lie 
but as in packs. Neither is this second fruit of friendship, 
in opening the understanding, restrained only to such friends 
as are able to give a man counsel; (they indeed are best;) 
but even without that, a man learneth of himself, and bring- 
eth his own thoughts to light, and whetteth his wits as 
against a stone, which itself cuts not. In a word, a man were 
better relate himself to a statua or picture, than to suffer hi^ 
thoughts to pass in smother.^ 

Add now, to make this second fruit of friendship com- 
plete, that other point which lieth more open and falleth 
within vulgar observation; which is faithful counsel from a 
friend. Heraclitus saith well in one of his enigmas. Dry 
light is ever the best. And certain it is, that the light that a 
man receiveth by counsel from another is drier and purer 
than that which cometh from his own understanding and 
judgment; which is ever infused and drenched in his affec- 
tions and customs. So as there is as much dift'erence between 
the counsel that a friend giveth, and that a man giveth him- 
self, as there is between the counsel of a friend and of a 
flatterer. For there is no such flatterer as is a man's self; 
and there is no such remedy against flattery of a man's self 
as the liberty of a friend. Counsel is of two sorts: the one 
concerning manners, the other concerning business. For the 
first, the best preservative to keep the mind in health is the 
faithful admonition of a friend. The calling of a man's self 
to a strict account is a medicine, sometime, too piercing and 
corrosive. Reading good books of morality is a little flat 
and dead. Observing our faults in others is sometimes im- 
proper for our case. But the best receipt (best, I say, to 
work, and best to take) is the admonition of a friend. It 
is a strange thing to behold what gross errors and extreme 
absurdities many (especially of the greater sort) do com- 
mit, for want of a friend to tell them of them; to the great 
8 Fully displayed. ® Suppressed. 



74 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

damage both of their fame and fortune: for, as St. James 
saith, they are as men that look sometimes into a glass, and 
presently forget their own shape and favor. As for busi- 
ness, a man may think, if he will, that two eyes see no more 
than one ; or that a gamester seeth always more than a look- 
er-on; or that a man in anger is as wise as he that hath 
said over the four and twenty letters ; or that a musket may 
be shot off as well upon the arm as upon a rest; and such 
other fond and high imaginations, to think himself all in all. 
But when all is done, the help of good counsel is that which 
setteth business straight. And if any man think that he will 
take counsel, but it shall be by pieces; asking counsel in one 
business of one man, and in another business of another 
man; it is well (that is to say, better perhaps than if he 
asked none at all) ; but he runneth two dangers: one, that 
he shall not be faithfully counselled; for it is a rare thing, 
except it be from a perfect and entire friend, to have counsel 
given, bvit such as shall be bowed and crooked to some ends 
which he hath that giveth it. The other, that he shall have 
couns-^l given, hurtful and unsafe (though with good mean- 
ing), and mixed partly of mischief and partly of remedy; 
even as if you would call a physician that is thought good 
for the cure of the disease you complain of, but is unac- 
quainted with your body; and therefore may put you in way 
for a present cure, but overthroweth your health in some 
other kind ; and so cure the disease and kill the patient. But a 
friend that is wholly acquainted with a man's estate will be- 
ware, by furthering any present business, how he dasheth 
upon other inconvenience. And therefore rest not upon 
scattered counsels; they will rather distract and mislead, 
than settle and direct. 

After these two noble fruits of friendship (peace in the 
affections, and support of the judgment), followeth the last 
fruit; which is like the pomegranate, full of many kernels; 
I mean aid and bearing a part in all actions and occasions. 
Here the best way to represent to life the manifold use of 
friendship is to cast and see how many things there are which 
a man cannot do himself ; and then it will appear that it was 
a sparing speech of the ancients, to say, that a friend is an- 
other himself; for that a friend is far more than himself. 



OF EXPENSE 75 

Men have their time, and die many times in desire of some 
things which they principally take to heart; the bestowing^" 
of a child, the finishing of a work, or the like. If a man 
have a true friend, he may rest almost secure that the care 
of those things will continue after him. So that a man hath, 
as it were, two lives in his desires. A man hath a body, and 
that body is confined to a place; but where friendship is, all 
offices of life are as it were granted to him and his deputy. 
For he may exercise them by his friend. How many things 
are there which a man cannot, with any face or comeliness, 
say or do himself? A man can scarce allege his own merits 
with modesty, much less extol them; a man cannot some- 
times brook to supplicate or beg; and a number of the like. 
But all these things are graceful in a friend's mouth, which 
are blushing in a man's own. So again, a man's person hath 
many proper relations which he cannot put off. A man can- 
not speak to his son but as a father; to his wife but as a 
husband; to his enemy but upon terins: whereas a friend 
may speak as the case requires, and not as it sorteth with the 
person. But to enumerate these things were endless ; I have 
given the rule, where a man cannot fitly play his own part; 
if he have not a friend, he may quit the stage. 



XXVIII 

OF EXPENSE 

Riches are for spending, and spending for honor and good 
actions. Therefore extraordinary expense must be limited 
by the worth of the occasion ; for voluntary undoing may be 
as well for a man's country as for the kingdom of heaven. 
But ordinary expense ought to be limited by a man's estate ; 
and governed with such regard, as it be within his compass ; 
and not subject to deceit and abuse^ of servants; and ordered 
to the best show, that the bills may be less than the esti- 
mation abroad. Certainly, if a man will keep but of even 
hand, his ordinary expenses ought to be but to the half of 
his receipts; and if he think to wax rich, but to the third 

^° Settling in life. ^ Cheating. 



76 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

part. It is no baseness for the greatest to descend and look 
into their own estate. Some forbear it, not upon neghgence 
alone, but doubting to bring themselves into melancholy, in 
respect they shall find it broken.^ But wounds cannot be 
cured without searching. He that cannot look into his own 
estate at all, had need both choose well those whom he em- 
ployeth, and change them often; for new are more timor- 
ous and less subtle. He that can look into his estate but 
seldom, it behooveth him to turn all to certainties. A man 
had need, if he be plentiful in some kind of expense, to be 
as saving again in some other. As if he be plentiful in diet, 
to be saving in apparel; if he be plentiful in the hall, to 
be saving in the stable ; and the like. For he that is plentiful 
in expenses of all kinds will hardly be preserved from decay. 
In clearing of a man's estate, he may as well hurt himself 
in being too sudden, as in letting it run on too long. For 
hasty selling is commonly as disadvantageable as interest. 
Besides, he that clears at once will relapse; for finding him- 
self out of straits, he will revert to his customs : but he that 
cleareth by degrees induceth a habit of frugality, and gaineth 
as well upon his mind as upon his estate. Certainly, who 
hath a state to repair, may not despise small things; and 
commonly it is less dishonorable to abridge petty charges, 
than to stoop to petty gettings. A man ought warily to 
begin charges which once begun will continue; but in mat- 
ters that return not he may be more magnificent. 



XXIX 

OF THE TRUE GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS AND ESTATES 

The speech of Themistocles the Athenian, which was 
haughty and arrogant in taking so much to himself, had 
been a grave and wise observation and censure, applied at 
large to others. Desired at a feast to touch a lute, he said, 
He could not fiddle, hut yet he could make a small town a 
great city. These words (holpen a little with a metaphor) 
may express two differing abilities in those that deal in busi- 

2 Bankrupt. 



OF THE TRUE GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS 11 

ness of estate. For if a true survey be taken of counsellors 
and statesmen, there may be found (though rarely) those 
which can make a small state great, and yet cannot fiddle; 
as on the other side, there will be found a great many that 
can fiddle very cunningly, but yet are so far from being able 
to make a small state great, as their gift lieth the other way; 
to bring a great and flourishing estate to ruin and decay. 
And certainly those degenerate arts and shifts, whereby many 
counsellors and governors gain both favor with their masters 
and estimation with the vulgar, deserve no better name than 
fiddling; being things rather pleasing for the time, and grace- 
ful to themselves only, than tending to the weal and advance- 
ment of the state which they serve. There are also (no 
doubt) counsellors and governors which may be held suf- 
ficient (negotiis pares [equals in business]), able to manage 
affairs, and to keep them from precipices and manifest in- 
conveniences; which nevertheless are far from the ability to 
raise and amplify an estate in power, means, and fortune. 
But be the workmen what they may be, let us speak of the 
work; that is, the true greatness of kingdoms and estates, 
and the means thereof. An argument fit for great and 
mighty princes to have in their hand ; to the end that neither 
by over-measuring their forces, they leese^ themselves in 
vain enterprises ; nor on the other side, by undervaluing them, 
they descend to fearful and pusillanimous counsels. 

The greatness of an estate in bulk and territory doth fall 
under measure; and the greatness of finances and revenue 
doth fall under computation. The population may appear by 
musters; and the number and greatness of cities and towns 
by cards^ and maps. But yet there is not any thing amongst 
civil affairs more subject to error than the right valuation 
and true judgment concerning the power and forces of an 
estate. The kingdom of heaven is compared, not to any 
great kernel or nut, but to a grain of mustard-seed: which 
is one of the least grains, but hath in it a property and spirit 
hastily to get up and spread. So are there states great in 
territory, and yet not apt to enlarge or command ; and some 
that have but a small dimension of stem, and yet apt to be 
the foundations of great monarchies. 

1 Lose. 2 Charts. 



78 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

Walled towns, stored arsenals and armories, goodly races 
of horse, chariots of war, elephants, ordnance, artillery, and 
the like; all this is but a sheep in a lion's skin, except the 
breed and disposition of the people be stout and warlike. 
Nay, number (itself) in armies importeth not much, where 
the people is of weak courage; for (as Virgil saith) It 
never troubles a wolf how many the sheep he. The army of 
the Persians in the plains of Arbela was such a vast sea 
of people, as it did somewhat astonish the commanders in 
Alexander's army; who came to him therefore, and wished 
him to set upon them by night; but he answered, He would 
not pilfer the victory. And the defeat was easy. When 
Tigranes the Armenian, being encamped upon a hill with 
four hundred thousand men, discovered the army of the 
Romans, being not above fourteen thousand, marching 
towards him, he made himself merry with it, and said, Yon- 
der men are too many for an embassage, and too few for a 
fight. But before the sun set, he found them enow to give 
him the chase with infinite slaughter. Many are the ex- 
amples of the great odds between number and courage; so 
that a man may truly make a judgment, that the principal point 
of greatness in any state is to have a race of military men. 
Neither is money the sinews of war (as it is trivially^ said), 
where the sinews of men's arms, in base and effeminate peo- 
ple, are failing. For Solon said well to Croesus (when in 
ostentation he showed him his gold), Sir, if any other come 
that hath better iron than you, he will be master of all this 
gold. Therefore let any prince or state think soberly of his 
forces, except his militia of natives be of good and valiant 
soldiers. And let princes, on the other side, that have sub- 
jects of martial disposition, know their own strength; unless 
they be otherwise wanting unto themselves. As for mercen- 
ary forces (which is the help in this case), all examples show 
that whatsoever estate or prince doth rest upon them, he may 
spread his feathers for a time, but he will mew them soon 
after. 

The blessing of Judah and Issachar will never meet ; that 
the same people or nation should be both the lion's zvhelp 
and the ass between burthens; neither will it be, that a peo- 

3 Commonly. 



OF THE TRUE GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS 79 

pie overlaid with taxes should ever become valiant and 
martial. It is true that taxes levied by consent of the estate 
do abate men's courage less : as it hath been seen notably in 
the excises of the Low Countries ; and, in some degree, in 
the subsidies of England. For you must note that we speak 
now of the heart and not of the purse. So that although the 
same tribute and tax, laid by consent or by imposing, be all 
one to the purse, yet it works diversely upon the courage. 
So that you may conclude, that no people overcharged with 
tribute is fit for empire. 

Let states that aim at greatness take heed how their no- 
bility and gentlemen do multiply too fast. For that maketh 
the common subject grow to be a peasant and base swain, 
driven out of heart, and in effect but the gentleman's laborer. 
Even as you may see in coppice woods ; if you leave your 
staddles* too thick, you shall never have clean underwood, but 
shrubs and bushes. So in countries, if the gentlemen be too 
many, the commons will be base; and you will bring it to 
that, that not the hundred poll" will be fit for an helmet; 
especially as to the infantry, which is the nerve® of an army ; 
and so there will be great population and little strength. 
This which I speak of hath been nowhere better seen than 
by comparing of England and France; whereof England, 
though far less in territory and population, hath been (never- 
theless) an over-match; in regard the middle people of Eng- 
land make good soldiers, which the peasants of France do 
not. And herein the device of king Henry the Seventh 
(whereof I have spoken largely in the History of his Life) 
was profound and admirable ; in making farms and houses of 
husbandry of a standard; that is, maintained with such a 
proportion of land unto them, as may breed a subject to live 
in convenient plenty and no servile condition; and to keep 
the plough in the hands of the owners, and not mere hire- 
lings. And thus indeed you shall attain to Virgil's character 
which he gives to ancient Italy: 

Terra potens armis atque ubere glebae. 

[A land powerful in arms and in productiveness of soil.] 

Neither is that state (which, for any thing I know, is almost 

* Young trees left standing. ^ Hundredth head. « Sinew. 



80 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

peculiar to England, and hardly to be found anywhere else, 
except it be perhaps in Poland) to be passed over; I mean 
the state of free servants and attendants upon noblemen and 
gentlemen; which are no ways inferior unto the yeomanry 
for arms. And therefore out of all question, the splendor 
and magnificence of great retinues and hospitality of noble- 
men and gentlemen, received into custom, doth much conduce 
unto martial greatness. Whereas, contrariwise, the close 
and reserved living of noblemen and gentlemen causeth a 
penury of military forces. 

By all means it is to be procured, that the trunk of Nebu- 
chadnezzar's tree'^ of monarchy be great enough to bear the 
branches and the boughs; that is, that the natural subjects 
of the crown or state bear a sufficient proportion to the 
stranger subjects that they govern. Therefore all states that 
are liberal of naturalization towards strangers are fit for 
empire. For to think that an handful of people can, with 
the greatest courage and policy in the w'orld, embrace too 
large extent of dominion, it may hold for a time, but it will 
fail suddenly. The Spartans were a nice^ people in point 
of naturalization; whereby, while they kept their compass, 
they stood firm; but when they did spread, and their boughs 
were becomen too great for their stem, they became a wind- 
fall upon the sudden. Never any state was in this point so 
open to receive strangers into their body as were the Romans. 
Therefore it sorted with them accordingly; for they grew 
to the greatest monarchy. Their manner was to grant natu- 
ralization (which they called jus civitatis [the right of citi- 
zenship] ) , and to grant it in the highest degree ; that is, 
not only jus commercii [the right to commercial trade], jus 
connubii [the right to intermarry], jus hcBreditatis [the right 
of inheritance] ; but also jus suffragii [the right of suffrage], 
and jus honorum [the right of holding office]. And this not 
to singular persons alone, but likewise to whole families; 
yea to cities, and sometimes to nations. Add to this their 
custom of plantation of colonies; whereby the Roman plant 
was removed into the soil of other nations. And putting both 
constitutions together, you will say that it was not the Romans 
that spread upon the world, but it was the world that spread 

' Daniel iv. lo. ^ Particular. 



OF THE TRUE GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS 81 

upon the Romans; and that was the sure way of greatness. 
I have marvelled sometimes at Spain, how they clasp and 
contain so large dominions with so few natural Spaniards; 
but sure the whole compass of Spain is a very great body 
of a tree; far above Rome and Sparta at the first. And 
besides, though they have not had that usage to naturalize 
liberally, yet they have that which is next to it ; that is, to 
employ almost indifferently all nations in their militia of ordi- 
nary soldiers; yea and sometimes in their highest commands. 
Nay it seemeth at this instant they are sensible of this want 
of natives; as by the Pragmatical Sanction,^ now published, 
appeareth. 

It is certain that sedentary and within-door arts, and 
delicate manufactures (that require rather the finger than 
the arm), have in their nature a contrariety to a military 
disposition. And generally, all warlike people are a little 
idle and love danger better than travail. Neither must they 
be too much broken of it, if they shall be preserved in 
vigor. Therefore it was great advantage in the ancient states 
of Sparta, Athens, Rome, and others, that they had the 
use of slaves, which commonly did rid those manufactures. 
But that is abolished, in greater part, by the Christian law. 
That which cometh nearest to it is to leave those arts chiefly 
to strangers (which for that purpose are the more easily to 
be received), and to contain the principal bulk of the vulgar 
natives within those three kinds, — tillers of the ground ; free 
servants; and handicraftsmen of strong and manly arts, as 
smiths, masons, carpenters, etc. ; not reckoning professed 
soldiers. 

But above all, for empire and greatness, it importeth most, 
that a nation do profess arms as their principal honor, study, 
and occupation. For the things which we formerly have 
spoken of are but habilitations towards arms; and what is 
habilitation without intention and act? Romulus, after his 
death (as they report or feign), sent a present to the Romans, 
that above all they should intend^" arms ; and then they should 
prove the greatest empire of the world. The fabric of the 
state of Sparta was wholly (though not wisely) framed and 

^ A decree " which gave certain privileges to persons who married, and 
further immunities to those who had six children." lo Pay attention to. 



82 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

composed to that scope and end. The Persians and Mace- 
donians had it for a flash. The Gauls, Germans, Goths,Saxons, 
Normans, and others, had it for a time. The Turks have it 
at this day, though in great declination. Of Christian 
Europe, they that have it are, in effect, only the Spaniards. 
But it is so plain that every man proHteth in that he most 
intendeth, that it needeth not to be stood upon. It is enough 
to point at it; that no nation which doth not directly pro- 
fess arms may look to have greatness fall into their mouths. 
And on the other side, it is a most certain oracle of time, that 
those states that continue long in that profession (as the 
Romans and Turks principally have done) do wonders. And 
those that have professed arms but for an age, have notwith- 
standing commonly attained that greatness in that age which 
maintained them long after, when their profession and ex- 
ercise of arms hath grown to decay. 

Incident to this point is, for a state to have those laws or 
customs which may reach forth unto them just occasions 
(as may be pretended) of war. For there is that justice 
imprinted in the nature of men, that they enter not upon 
wars (whereof so many calamities do ensue) but upon some, 
at the least specious, grounds and quarrels. The Turk hath 
at hand, for cause of war, the propagation of his law or 
sect; a quarrel that he may always command. The Romans, 
though they esteemed the extending the limits of their empire 
to be great honor to their generals when it was done, yet 
they never rested upon that alone to begin a war. First 
therefore, let nations that pretend to greatness have this ; that 
they be sensible of^ wrongs, either upon borderers, mer- 
chants, or politic ministers; and that they sit not too long 
upon a provocation. Secondly, let them be prest^^ and ready 
to give aids and succors to their confederates ; as it ever 
was with the Romans; insomuch, as if the confederate had 
leagues defensive with divers other states, and, upon invasion 
offered, did implore their aids severally, yet the Romans 
would ever be the foremost, and leave it to none other to have 
the honor. As for the wars which were anciently made on 
the behalf of a kind of party, or tacit conformity of estate, 
I do not see how they may be v/ell justified: as when the 

^ Sensitive to. ^ Prepared. 



OF THE TRUE GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS 83 

Romans made a war for the liberty of Grecia; or when the 
Lacedc-emonians and Athenians made wars to set up or pull 
down democracies and oligarchies ; or when wars were made 
by foreigners, under the pretence of justice or protection, 
to deliver the subjects of others from tyranny and oppres- 
sion ; and the like. Let it suffice, that no estate expect to be 
great, that is not awake upon any just occasion of arming. 

No body can be healthful without exercise, neither natural 
body nor politic; and certainly to a kingdom or estate, a just 
and honorable war is the true exercise. A civil war, indeed, 
is like the heat of a fever; but a foreign war is like the 
heat of exercise, and serveth to keep the body in health ; for 
in a slothful peace, both courages will effeminate and man- 
ners corrupt. But howsoever it be for happiness, without 
all question, for greatness it maketh, to be still for the most 
part in arms; and the strength of a veteran army (though 
it be a chargeable business) always on foot is that which 
commonly giveth the law, or at least the reputation, amongst 
all neighbor states ; as may well be seen in Spain, which hath 
had, in one part or other, a veteran army almost continually, 
now by the space of six score years. 

To be master of the sea is an abridgment" of a monarchy. 
Cicero, writing to Atticus of Pompey his preparation against 
Caesar, saith. Consilium Pompeii plane Themistocleum est; 
putat enim, qui mari potitur, eum rerum potiri [Pompey is 
going upon the policy of Themistocles ; thinking that he who 
commands the sea commands all]. And, without doubt, 
Pompey had tired out Caesar, if upon vain confidence he had 
not left that way. We see the great effects of battles by 
sea. The battle of Actium decided the empire of the world. 
The battle of Lepanto arrested the greatness of the Turk. 
There be many examples where sea-fights have been final 
to the war; but this is when princes or states have set up 
their rest upon the battles. But thus much is certain, that 
he that commands the sea is at great liberty, and may take 
as much and as little of the war as he will. Whereas those 
that be strongest by land are many times nevertheless in 
great straits. Surely, at this day, with us of Europe, the 
vantage of strength at sea (which is one of the principal 

13 "A monarchy in miniature." 



84 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

dowries of this kingdom of Great Britain) is great; both 
because most of the kingdoms of Europe are not merely- 
inland, but girt with the sea most part of their compass ; and 
because the wealth of both Indies seems in great part but 
an accessory to the command of the seas. 

The wars of latter ages seem to be made in the dark, in 
respect of the glory and honoi; which reflected upon men 
from the wars in ancient time. There be now, for martial 
encouragement, some degrees and orders of chivalry; which 
nevertheless are conferred promiscuously upon soldiers and 
no soldiers ; and some remembrance perhaps upon the scutch- 
eon; and some hospitals for maimed soldiers; and such 
like things. But in ancient times, the trophies erected upon 
the place of the victory; the funeral laudatives and monu- 
ments for those that died in the wars; the crowns and gar- 
lands personal; the style of emperor, which the great kings 
of the world after borrowed; the triumphs of the generals 
upon their return; the great donatives and largesses upon 
the disbanding of the armies; were things able to inflame 
all men's courages. But above all, that of the triumph, 
amongst the Romans, was not pageants or gaudery, but 
one of the wisest and noblest institutions that ever was. For 
it contained three things: honor to the general; riches to 
the treasury out of the spoils; and donatives to the army. 
But that honor perhaps were not fit for monarchies; except 
it be in the person of the monarch himself, or his sons; as 
it came to pass in the times of the Roman emperors, who 
did impropriate the actual triumphs to themselves and their 
sons, for such wars as they did achieve in person; and left 
only, for wars achieved by subjects, some triumphal gar- 
ments and ensigns to the general. 

To conclude : no man can by care taking (as the Scripture 
saith) add a cubit to his stature, in this little model of a man's 
body; but in the great frame of kingdoms and common- 
wealths, it is in the power of princes or estates to add 
amplitude and greatness to their kingdoms; for by intro- 
ducing such ordinances, constitutions, and customs, as we 
have now touched, they may sow greatness to their posterity 
and succession. But these things are commonly not ob- 
served, but left to take their chance. 



OF REGIMENT OF HEALTH 85 

XXX 

OF REGIMENT OF HEALTH 

There is a wisdom in this beyond the rules of physic: a 
man's own observation, what he finds good of, and what he 
finds hurt of, is the best physic to preserve health. But it 
is a safer conckision to say, This agreeth not well zvith me, 
therefore I will not continue it; than this, / iind no offence 
of this, therefore I may use it. For strength of nature in 
youth passeth over many excesses, which are owing a man 
till his age. Discern of the coming on of years, and think 
not to do the same things still; for age will not be defied. 
Beware of sudden change in any great point of diet, and 
if necessity inforce it, fit the rest to it. For it is a secret 
both in nature and state, that it is safer to change many things 
than one. Examine thy customs of diet, sleep, exercise, 
apparel, and the like ; and try, in any thing thou shalt judge 
hurtful, to discontinue it by little and little; but so, as if 
thou dost find any inconvenience by the change, thou come 
back to it again : for it is hard to distinguish that which is 
generally held good and wholesome, from that which is good 
particularly, and fit for thine own body. To be free-minded 
and cheerfully disposed at hours of meat and of sleep and 
of exercise, is one of the best precepts of long lasting. As 
for the passions and studies of the mind; avoid envy; anxious 
fears ; anger fretting inwards ; subtle and knotty inquisitions ; 
joys and exhilarations in excess; sadness not communicated. 
Entertain hopes; mirth rather than joy; variety of delights, 
rather than surfeit of them; wonder and admiration, and 
therefore novelties; studies that fill the mind with splendid 
and illustrious objects, as histories, fables, and contempla- 
tions of nature. If you fly physic in health altogether, it will 
be too strange for your body when you shall need it. If you 
make it too familiar, it will work no extraordinary effect 
when sickness cometh. I commend rather some diet for 
certain seasons, than frequent use of physic, except it be 
grown into a custom. For those diets alter the body more 
and trouble it less. Despise no new accident in your body, 
but ask opinion of it. In sickness, respect health principally ; 

HC III 6 



86 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

and in health, action. For those that put their bodies to 
endure in heahh, may in most sicknesses, which are not 
very sharp, be cured only with diet and tendering.^ Celsus 
could never have spoken it as a physician, had he not been 
a wise man withal, when he giveth it* for one of the great 
precepts of health and lasting, that a man do vary and in- 
terchange contraries, but with an inclination to the more 
benign extreme: use fasting and full eating, but rather full 
eating; watching and sleep, but rather sleep; sitting and 
exercise, but rather exercise; and the like. So shall nature 
be cherished, and yet taught masteries. Physicians are some 
of them so pleasing and conformable to the humor of the 
patient, as they press not the true cure of the disease; and 
some other are so regular in proceeding according to art for 
the disease, as they respect not sufficiently the condition of 
the patient. Take one of a middle temper; or if it may 
not be found in one man, combine two of either sort; and 
forget not to call as well the best acquainted with your 
body, as the best reputed of for his faculty.^ 



XXXI 

OF SUSPICION 

Suspicions amongst thoughts are like bats amongst birds, 
they ever fly by twilight. Certainly they are to be repressed, 
or at least well guarded : for they cloud the mind ; they leese^ 
friends; and they check with business, whereby business 
cannot go on currently and constantly. They dispose kings 
to tyranny, husbands to jealousy, wise men to irresolution 
and melancholy. They are defects, not in the heart, but in 
the brain; for they take place in the stoutest"" natures; as 
in the example of Henry the Seventh of England. There 
was not a more suspicious man, nor a more stout. And in 
such a composition they do small hurt. For commonly they 
are not admitted, but with examination, whether they be 
likely or no. But in fear'ful natures they gain ground too 
fast. There is nothing makes a man suspect much, more 

1 Nursing. - Ability. ^ Lose. 2 Bravest. 



OF DISCOURSE 87 

than to know little; and therefore men should remedy sus- 
picion by procuring to know more, and not to keep their 
suspicions in smother.^ What would men have? Do they 
think those they employ and deal with are saints? Do they 
not think they will have their own ends, and be truer to 
themselves than to them? Therefore there is no better way 
to moderate suspicions, than to account upon such suspicions 
as true and yet to bridle them as false. For so far a man 
ought to make use of suspicions, as to provide, as if that 
should be true that he suspects, yet it may do him no hurt. 
Suspicions that the mind of itself gathers are but buzzes; 
but suspicions that are artificially nourished, and put into 
men's heads by the tales and whisperings of others, have 
stings. Certainly, the best mean to clear the way in this 
same wood of suspicions is frankly to communicate them 
with the party that he suspects; for thereby he shall be sure 
to know more of the truth of them than he did before; ana 
withal shall make that party more circumspect not to give 
further cause of suspicion. But this would not be done to 
men of base natures; for they, if they find themselves once 
suspected, will never be true. The Italian says, Sospetto 
licentia fedef as if suspicion did give a passport to faith; 
but it ought rather to kindle it to discharge itself. 



XXXII 

OF DISCOURSE 

Some in their discourse desire rather commendation of 
wit, in being able to hold all arguments, than of judgment, 
in discerning what is true; as if it were a praise to know 
what might be said, and not what should be thought. Some 
have certain common places and themes wherein they are 
good, and want variety; which kind of poverty is for the 
most part tedious, and when it is once perceived, ridiculous. 
The honorablest part of talk is to give the occasion; 
and again to moderate^ and pass to somewhat else; for then 

3 Suppressed. * /. e., suspicion justifies breaking faith. 
^ Guide the discussion. 



88 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

a man leads the dance. It is good, in discourse and speech 
of conversation, to vary and intermingle speech of the 
preser^t occasion with arguments, tales with reasons, asking 
of questions with telling of opinions, and jest with earnest: 
for it is a dull thing to tire, and, as we say now^ to jade,^ 
any thing too far. As for jest, there be certain things which 
ought to be privileged from it; namely, religion, matters of 
state, great persons, any man's present business of im- 
portance, and any case that deserveth pity. Yet there be 
some that think their wits have been asleep, except they 
dart out somewhat that is piquant, and to the quick. That 
is a vein which would be bridled : 

Parce, puer, stimulis, et fortius utere loris. 

[Spare, boy, the whip and tighter hold the reins.] And 
generally, men ought to find the difference between saltness 
and bitterness. Certainly, he that hath a satirical vein, as 
he maketh others afraid of his wit, so he had need be afraid 
of others' memory. He that questioneth much shall learn 
much, and content much ; but especially if he apply his ques- 
tions to the skill of the persons whom he asketh; for he 
shall give them occasion to please themselves in speaking, 
and himself shall continually gather knowledge. But let 
his questions not be troublesome; for that is fit for a poser.' 
And let him be sure to leave other men their turns to speak. 
Nay, if there be any that would reign and take up all the 
time, let him find means to take them off, and to bring others 
on ; as musicians use to do with those that dance too long 
galliards. If you dissemble sometimes your knowledge of 
that you are thought to know, you shall be thought another 
time to know that you know not. Speech of a man's self 
ought to be seldom, and well chosen. I knew one was wont 
to say in scorn. He must needs he a wise man, he speaks 
so much of himself: and there is but one case wherein a 
man may commend himself with good grace; and that is in 
commending virtue in another; especially if it be such a 
virtue whereunto himself pretendeth. Speech of touch* 
towards others should be sparingly used ; for discourse ought 
to be as a field, without coming home to any man. I knew 

2 Tire with overdriving. ^ Examiner. * Personal, touching a sore spot. 



OF PLANTATIONS 89 

two noblemen, of the west part of England, whereof the one 
was given to scoff, but kept ever royal cheer in his house; 
the other would ask of those that had been at the other's 
table. Tell truly was there never a flout or dry hlo-uf given? 
To which the guest would answer. Such and such a thing 
passed. The lord would say, / thought he zvould mar a good 
dinner. Discretion of speech is more than eloquence ; and 
to speak agreeably to him with whom we deal, is more than 
to speak in good words or in good order. A good continued 
speech, without a good speech of interlocution, shows slow- 
ness : and a good reply or second speech, without a good 
settled speech, showeth shallowness and weakness. As we 
see in beasts, that those that are weakest in the course are 
yet nimblest in the turn; as it is betwixt the greyhound and 
the hare. To use too many circumstances ere one come to 
the matter, is wearisome ; to use none at all, is blunt. 



XXXIII 



Plantations are amongst ancient, primitive, and heroical 
works. When the world was young it begat more children; 
but now it is old it begets fewer: for I may justly account 
new plantations to be the children of former kingdoms. I 
like a plantation in a pure soil; that is, where people are 
not displanted to the end to plant in others. For else it is 
rather an extirpation than a plantation. Planting of coun- 
tries is like planting of woods; for you must make account 
to leese^ almost twenty years' profit, and expect your recom- 
pense in the end. For the principal thing that hath been 
the destruction of most plantations, hath been the base and 
hasty drawing of profit in the first years. It is true, speedy 
profit is not to be neglected, as far as may stand with the 
good of the plantation, but no further. It is a shameful and 
unblessed thing to take the scum of people, and wicked 
condemned men, to be the people with whom you plant; 
and not only so, but it spoileth the plantation; for they will 
* Scornful jest. ^ Colonies. * Lose. 



90 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

ever live like • rogues, and not fall to work, but be lazy, 
and do mischief, and spend victuals, and be quickly weary, 
and then certify^ over to their country to the discredit of 
the plantation. The people v^herev^ith you plant ought to 
be gardeners, ploughmen, laborers, smiths, carpenters, joiners, 
fishermen, fowlers, with some few apothecaries, surgeons, 
cooks, and bakers. In a country of plantation, first look 
about what kind of victual the country yields of itself to 
hand; as chestnuts, walnuts, pineapples, olives, dates, plums, 
cherries, wild honey, and the like; and make use of them. 
Then consider what victual or esculent things there are, 
which grow speedily, and within the year; as parsnips, car- 
rots, turnips, onions, radish, artichokes of Hierusalem, maize, 
and the like. For wheat, barley, and oats, they ask too 
much labor; but with pease and beans you may begin, both 
because they ask less labor, and because they serve for 
meat as well as for bread. And of rice likewise cometh a 
great increase, and it is a kind of meat. Above all, there 
ought to be brought 'store of biscuit, oat-meal, flour, meal, 
and the like, in the beginning, till bread may be had. For 
beasts, or birds, take chiefly such as are least subject to 
diseases, and multiply fastest; as swine, goats, cocks, hens, 
turkeys, geese, house-doves, and the like. The victual in 
plantations ought to be expended almost as in a besieged 
town; that is, with certain allowance. And let the main 
part of the ground employed to gardens or corn, be to a com- 
mon stock ; and to be laid in, and stored up, and then 
delivered out in proportion; besides some spots of ground 
that any particular person will manure for his own private. 
Consider likewise what commodities the soil where the plan- 
tation is doth naturally yield, that they may some way help 
to defray the charge of the plantation (so it be not, as was 
said, to the untimely prejudice of the main business), as 
it hath fared with tobacco in Virginia. Wood commonly 
aboundeth but too much; and therefore timber is fit to be 
one. If there be iron ore, and streams whereupon to set 
the mills, iron is a brave* commodity where wood aboundeth. 
Making of bay-salt, if the climate be proper for it, would 
be put in experience. Growing silk likewise, if any be, is 

3 Send word. * Fine. 



OF PLANTATIONS 91 

a likely commodity. Pitch and tar, where store of firs and 
pines are, will not fail. So drugs and sweet woods, where 
they are, cannot but yield great profit. Soap-ashes likewise, 
and other things that may be thought of. But moif not 
too much under ground; for the hope of mines is very un- 
certain, and useth to make the planters lazy in other things. 
For government, let it be in the hands of one, assisted 
with some counsel; and let them have commission to exercise 
martial laws, with some limitation. And above all, let men 
make that profit of being in the wilderness, as they have God 
always, and his service, before their eyes. Let not the 
government of the plantation depend upon too many counsel- 
lors and undertakers in the country that planteth, but upon 
a temperate number; and let those be rather noblemen and 
gentlemen, than merchants ; for they look ever to the present 
gain. Let there be freedom from custom,® till the plantation be 
of strength ; and not only freedom from custom, but freedom 
to carry their commodities where they may make their best 
of them, except there be some special cause of caution. 
Cram not in people, by sending too fast company after com- 
pany; but rather harken how they waste, and send supplies 
proportionably ; but so as the number may live well in the 
plantation, and not by surcharge' be in penury. It hath 
been a great endangering to the health of some plantations, 
that they have built along the sea and rivers, in marish and 
unwholesome grounds. Therefore, though you begin there, 
to avoid carriage and other like discommodities, yet build 
still rather upwards from, the streams than along. It con- 
cerneth likewise the health of the plantation that they have 
good store of salt with them, that they may use it in their 
victuals, when it shall be necessary. If you plant where sav- 
ages are, do not only entertain them with trifles and gingles, 
but use them justly and graciously, with sufficient guard 
nevertheless ; and do not win their favor by helping them to 
invade their enemies, but for their defence it is not amiss; 
and send oft of them over to the country that plants, that 
they may see a better condition than their own, and commend 
it when they return. When the plantation grows to strength, 
then it is time to plant with women as well as with men ; that 

s Drudge. ^ Duties on imports and exports. ' Overloading. 



92 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

the plantation may spread into generations, and not be ever 
pieced from without. It is the sinfiillest thing in the world 
to forsake or destitute a plantation once in forwardness; 
for besides the dishonor, it is the guiltiness of blood of many 
commiserable^ persons. 



XXXIV 

OF RICHES 

I CANNOT call riches better than the baggage of virtue. 
The Roman word is better, impedimenta. For as the bag- 
gage is to an army, so is riches to virtue. It cannot be 
spared nor left behind, but it hindereth the march; yea, 
and the care of it sometimes loseth or disturbeth the victory. 
Of great riches there is no real use, except it be in the dis- 
tribution; the rest is but conceit. So saith Solomon, Where 
much isj there are many to consume it; and what hath the 
owner hut the sight of it with his eyes? The personal 
fruition in any man cannot reach to feel great riches: there 
is a custody of them; or a power of dole and donative of 
them ; or a fame of them ; but no solid use to the owner. Do 
you not see what feigned prices are set upon little stones and 
rarities? and what works of ostentation are undertaken, 
because there might seem to be some use of great riches? 
But then you will say, they may be of use to buy men out of 
dangers or troubles. As Solomon saith. Riches are as a 
strong hold, in the imagination of the rich man. But this 
is excellently expressed, that it is in imagination, and not 
always in fact. For certainly great riches have sold more 
men than they have bought out. Seek not proud riches, but 
such as thou mayest get justly, use soberly, distribute cheer- 
fully, and leave contentedly. Yet have no abstract nor 
friarly contempt of them. But distinguish, as Cicero saith 
well of Rabirius Posthumus, In studio rei ampliUcandce ap- 
parehat, non avaritice prcedam, sed instrumentum bonitati 
quceri [In seeking to increase his estate it was apparent that 
he sought not a prey for avarice to feed on, but an instrument 
for goodness to work with]. Harken also to Solomon, and 

8 Deserving pity. 



OF RICHES 93 

beware of hasty gathering of riches ; Qui festinaf ad divitias, 
non erit insons [He that maketh haste to be rich shall not 
be innocent]. The poets feign, that when Plutus (which is 
Riches) is sent from Jupiter, he limps and goes slowly; but 
when he is sent from Pluto, he runs and is swift of foot. 
Meaning that riches gotten by good means and just labor 
pace slowly; but when they come by the death of others 
(as by the course of inheritance, testaments, and the like), 
they come tumbling upon a man. But it mought be applied 
likewise to Pluto, taking him for the devil. For when riches 
come from the devil (as by fraud and oppression and unjust 
means), they come upon speed. The ways to enrich are 
many, and most of them foul. Parsimony is one of the 
best, and yet is not innocent; for it withholdeth men from 
works of liberality and charity. The improvement of the 
ground is the most natural obtaining of riches ; for it is our 
great mother's blessing, the earth's ; but it is slow. And yet 
where men of great wealth do stoop to husbandry, it multi- 
plieth riches exceedingly. I knew a nobleman in England, that 
had the greatest audits^ of any man in my time ; a great grazier, 
a great sheep-master, a great timber man, a great collier, 
a great corn-master, a great lead-man, and so of iron, and 
a number of the like points of husbandry. So as the earth 
seemed a sea to him. in respect of the perpetual importation. 
It was truly observed by one, that himself came very hardly 
to a little riches, and very easily to great riches. For when 
a man's stock is come to that, that he can expect the prime 
of markets, and overcome those bargains which for their 
greatness are few men's money, and be partner in the in- 
dustries of younger men, he cannot but increase mainly. 
The gains of ordinary trades and vocations are honest; and 
furthered by two things chiefly: by diligence, and by a good 
name for good and fair dealing. But the gains of bargains 
are of a more doubtful nature; when men shall wait upon^ 
others' necessity, broke^ by servants and instruments to draw 
them on, put off others cunningly that would be better chap- 
men,* and the like practices, which are crafty and naught. 
As for the chopping of bargains, when a man buys not to 
hold but to sell over again, that commonly grindeth double, 

1 Revenues. ^ Watch for. ^ Deal. * Traders. 



94 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACQN 

both upon the seller and upon the buyer. Sharings do 
greatly enrich, if the hands be well chosen that are trusted. 
Usury is the certainest means of gain, though one of the 
worst; as that whereby a man doth eat his bread in sudore 
viiltus alieni [in the sweat of another man's face] ; and be- 
sides, doth plough upon Sundays. But yet certain though it 
be, it hath flaws; for that the scriveners and brokers do 
value^ unsound men to serve their own turn. The fortune in 
being the first in an invention or in a privilege doth cause 
sometimes a wonderful overgrowth in riches; as it was with 
the first sugar man in the Canaries. Therefore if a man 
can play the true logician, to have as well judgment as in- 
vention, he may do great matters; especially if the times 
be fit. He that resteth upon gains certain shall hardly grow 
to great riches; and he that puts all upon adventures doth 
oftentimes break and come to poverty: it is good therefore 
to guard adventures with certainties, that may uphold losses. 
Monopolies, and coemption of^ wares for re-sale, where they 
are not restrained, are great means to enrich; especially if 
the party have intelligence what things are like to come 
into request, and so store himself beforehand. Riches gotten 
by service, though it be of the best rise,' yet when they 
are gotten by flattery, feeding humors, and other servile con- 
ditions, they may be placed amongst the worst. As for 
fishing for testaments and executorships (as Tacitus saith^ of 
Seneca, testamenta et orbos tamquam indagine capi [he took 
testaments and wardships as with a net] ) , it is yet worse ; 
by how much men submit themselves to meaner persons than 
in service. Believe not much them that seem to despise 
riches ; for they despise them that despair of them ; and none 
worse when they come to them. Be not penny-wise; riches 
have wings, and sometimes they fly away of themselves, 
sometimes they must be set flying to bring in more. 
Men leave their riches either to their kindred, or to the 
public ; and moderate portions prosper best in both. A great 
state left to an heir, is as a lure to all the birds of prey round 
about to seize on him, if he be not the better stablished in 
years and judgment. Likewise glorious* gifts and foun- 

5 Represent as sound. « Buying up. '^ Latin, though it have a 
certain dignity. ^ Showy. 



OF PROPHECIES 95 

dations are like sacrifices without salt; and but the painted 
sepulchres of alms, which soon will putrefy and corrupt in- 
wardly. Therefore measure not thine advancements by quan- 
tity, but frame them by measure: and defer not charities till 
death ; for, certainly, if a man weigh it rightly, he that doth 
so is rather Hberal of another man's than of his own. 



XXXV 

OF PROPHECIES 

I MEAN not to speak of divine prophecies ; nor of heathen 
oracles; nor of natural predictions; but only of prophecies 
that have been of certain memory, and from hidden causes. 
Saith the Pythonissa^ to Saul, To-morrow thou and thy son 
shall be with me. Homer hath these verses : 

At domus -(Enese cunctis dominabitur oris, 
Et nati natorum, et qui nascentur ab illis. 

[But the house of yEneas shall reign in all lands, and his 
children's children, and their generations.] A prophecy, as 
it seems, of the Roman empire. Seneca the tragedian hath 
these verses : 



Venient annis 



Saecula seris, quibus Oceanus 
Vincula rerum laxet, et ingens 
Pateat Tellus, Tiphysque novos 
Detegat orbes; nee sit terris 
Ultima Thule 

[There shall come a time when the bands of ocean shall be 
loosened, and the vast earth shall be laid open; another 
Tiphys shall disclose new worlds, and lands shall be seen 
beyond Thule] : a prophecy of the discovery of America. 
The daughter of Polycrates dreamed that Jupiter bathed her 
father, and Apollo anointed him; and it came to pass that 
he was crucified in an open place, where the sun made his 
body run with sweat, and the rain washed it. PhiHp of 
Macedon dreamed he sealed up his wife's belly; whereby he 

1 Witch of Endor. 



96 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

did expound it, that his wife should be barren ; but Aristander 
the soothsayer told him his wife was with child, because men 
do not use to seal vessels that are empty. A phantasm that 
appeared to M. Brutus in his tent, said to him, Philippis 
iterum me videhis [Thou shall see me again at Philippi]. 
Tiberius said to Galba, Tn quoque, Galha, degustahis im- 
periiim [Thou likewise, Galba, shall taste of empire]. In 
Vespasian's time, there went a prophecy in the East, that 
those that should come forth of Judea should reign over the 
world: which though it may be was meant of our Savior; 
yet Tacitus expounds it of Vespasian. Domitian dreamed, 
the night before he was slain, that a golden head was grow- 
ing out of the nape of his neck: and indeed the succession 
that followed him for many years, made golden times. 
Henry the Sixth of England said of Henry the Seventh, 
when he was a lad, and gave him water, This is the lad that 
shall enjoy the crown for which we strive. When I was in 
France, I heard from one Dr. Pena, that the Queen Mother, 
who was given to curious arts, caused the King her husband's 
nativity to be calculated, under a false name; and the as- 
trologer gave a judgment, that he should be killed in a duel; 
at which the Queen laughed, thinking her husband to be 
above challenges and duels : but he was slain upon a course 
at tilt, the splinters of the staff of Montgomery going in at 
his beaver.^ The trivial prophecy, which I heard when I 
was a child, and Queen Elizabeth was in the flower of her 
years, was. 

When hempe is spun 
England's done : 

whereby it was generally conceived, that after the princes 
had reigned which had the principal letters of that word 
hempe (which were Henry, Edward, Mary, Philip, and 
EHzabeth), England should come to utter confusion; which, 
thanks be to God, is verified only in the change of the name ; 
for that the King's style* is now no more of England, but of 
Britain. There was also another prophecy, before the year 
of '88, which I do not well understand. 

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OF PROPHECIES 97 

There shall be seen upon a day, 
Between the Baugh and the May, 
The black fleet of Norway. 
When that that is come and gone, 
England build houses of lime and stone, 
For after wars shall you have none. 

It was generally conceived to be meant of the Spanish fleet 
that came in '88: for that the king of Spain's surname, as 
they say, is Norway. The prediction of Regiomontanus, 

Octogesimus octavus mirabilis annus 

[The eighty-eighth, a year of wonders], was thought like- 
wise accomplished in the sending of that great fleet, being 
the greatest in strength, though not in number, of all that 
ever swam upon the sea. As for Cleon's dream, I think it 
was a jest. It was, that he was devoured of a long dragon; 
and it was expounded of a maker of sausages, that troubled 
him exceedingly. There are numbers of the like kind; es- 
pecially if you include dreams, and predictions of astrology. 
But I have set down these few only of certain credit, for 
example. My judgment is, that they ought all to be. de- 
spised ; and ought to serve but for winter talk by the fireside. 
Though when I say despised, I mean it as for belief; for 
otherwise, the spreading or publishing of them is in no sort 
to be despised. For they have done much mischief; and I 
see many severe laws made to suppress them. That that 
hath given them grace, and some credit, consisteth in three 
things. First, that men mark when they hit, and never mark 
when they miss; as they do generally also of dreams. The 
second is, that probable conjectures, or obscure traditions, 
many times turn themselves into prophecies; while the 
nature of man, which coveteth divination, thinks it no peril 
to foretell that which indeed they do but collect.^ As that 
of Seneca's verse. For so much was then subject to dem- 
onstration, that the globe of the earth had great parts beyond 
the Atlantic, which mought be probably conceived not to be 
all sea: and adding thereto the tradition in Plato's Timseus, 
and his Atlanticus. it mought encourage one to turn it to a 
prediction. The third and last (which is the great one) is, 

^ Infer. 



98 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

that almost all of them, being infinite in number, have been 
impostures, and by idle and crafty brains merely contrived 
and feigned after the event past. 

MOT ON SHELF 



XXXVI 

OF AMBITION 

Ambition is like choler; which is an humor^ that maketh 
men active, earnest, full of alacrity, and stirring, if it be not 
stopped. But if it be stopped, and cannot have his way, it 
becometh adust,^ and thereby malign and venomous. So am- 
bitious men, if they find the way open for their rising, and 
still get forward, they are rather busy than dangerous; but 
if they be checked in their desires, they become secretly 
discontent, and look upon men and matters with an evil eye, 
and are best pleased when things go backward ; which is the 
worst property in a servant of a prince or state. Therefore 
it is good for princes, if they use ambitious men, to handle' 
it so as they be still progressive and not retrograde; which 
because it cannot be without inconvenience, it is good not 
to use such natures at all. For if they rise not with their 
service, they will take order to make their service fall'with 
them. But since we have said it were good not to use men 
of ambitious natures, except it be upon necessity, it is fit we 
speak in what cases they are of necessity. Good command- 
ers in the wars must be taken, be they never so ambitious; 
for the use of their service dispenseth with the rest; and to 
take a soldier without ambition is to pull off his spurs. There 
is also great use of ambitious men in being screens to princes 
in matters of danger and envy; for no man will take that 
part, except he be like a seeled^ dove, that mounts and mounts 
because he cannot see about him. There is use also of ambi- 
tious men in pulling down the greatness of any subject that 
overtops; as Tiberius used Macro in the pulling down of 

^ According to the old physiology, the body contained four humors— blood, 
phlegm, choler (red bile>, melancholy (black bile)— the varying combination 
of which determined the individual temperament. 

* Scorched, overheated, ' With the eyelids sewed together. 



OF AMBITION 99 

Sejanus. Since therefore they must be used in such cases, 
there resteth to speak how they are to be bridled, that they 
may be less dangerous. There is less danger of them if they 
be of mean birth, than if they be noble ; and if they be rather 
harsh of nature, than gracious and popular: and if they be 
rather new raised, than grown cunning and fortified in their 
greatness. It is counted by some a weakness in princes to 
have favorites ; but it is of all others the best remedy against 
ambitious great-ones. For when the way of pleasuring and 
displeasuring lieth by the favorite, it is impossible any other 
should be over-great. Another means to curb them is to 
balance them by others as proud as they. But then there 
must be some middle counsellors, to keep things steady; for 
without that ballast the ship will roll too much. At the least, 
a prince may animate and inure* some meaner persons, to be 
as it were scourges to ambitious men. As for the having of 
them obnoxious^ to ruin; if they be of fearful natures, it may 
do well; but if they be stout and daring, it may precipitate 
their designs, and prove dangerous. As for the pulling of 
them down, if the affairs require it, and that it may not be 
done with safety suddenly, the only way is the interchange 
continually of favors and disgraces; whereby they may not 
know what to expect, and be as it were in a wood.^ Of am- 
bitions, it is less harmful, the ambition to prevail in great 
things, than that other, to appear in every thing; for that 
breeds confusion, and mars business. But yet it is less dan- 
ger to have an ambitious man stirring in business, than great 
in dependences. He that seeketh to be eminent amongst able 
men hath a great task ; but that is ever good for the public. 
But he that plots to be the only figure amongst ciphers is 
the decay of a whole age. Honor hath three things in it: 
the vantage ground to do good; the approach to kings and 
principal persons; and the raising of a man's own fortunes. 
He that hath the best of these intentions, when he aspireth, 
is an honest man; and that prince that can discern of these 
intentions in another that aspireth, is a wise prince. Gen- 
erally, let princes and states choose such ministers as are 
more sensible of duty than of rising; and such as love busi- 

* Accustom. s Liable. ^ Maze. 



100 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

ness rather upon conscience than upon bravery,' and let them 
discern a busy nature from a willing mind. 



XXXVII 

OF MASQUES AND TRIUMPHS 

These things are but toys, to come amongst such serious 
observations. But yet, since princes will have such things, 
it is better they should be graced with elegancy than daubed 
with cost. Dancing to song is a thing of great state and 
pleasure. I understand it, that the song be in quire, placed 
aloft, and accompanied with some broken music ;^ and the 
ditty fitted to the device. Acting in song, especially in dia- 
logues, hath an extreme good grace; I say acting, not 
dancing (for that is a mean and vulgar thing) ; and the 
voices of the dialogue would be strong and manly (a base 
and a tenor; no treble); and the ditty high and tragical; 
not nice or dainty. Several quires, placed one over against 
another, and taking the voice by catches, anthem-wise, give 
great pleasure. Turning dances into figure is a childish 
curiosity. And generally let it be noted, that those things 
which I here set down are such as do naturally take the 
sense, and not respect petty wonderments. It is true, the 
alterations of scenes, so it be quietly and without noise, are 
things of great beauty and pleasure; for they feed and re- 
lieve the eye, before it be full of the same object. Let the 
scenes abound with light, specially colored and varied; and 
let the masquers, or any other, that are to come down from 
the scene, have some motions upon the scene itself before 
their coming down; for it draws the eye strangely, and 
makes it with great pleasure to desire to see that it cannot 
perfectly discern. Let the songs be loud and cheerful, and 
not chirpings or pulings. Let the music likewise be sharp 
and loud, and well placed. The colors that show best by 
candle-light are white, carnation, and a kind of sea-water- 
green; and oes,^ or spangs, as they are of no great cost, so 
they are of most glory. As for rich embroidery, it is lost 
' Ostentation. ^ Part music, for different instruments. ^ Round spangles. 



OF NATURE IN MEN 101 

and not discerned. Let the suits of the masquers be grace- 
ful, and such as become the person when the vizors are off; 
not after examples of known attires; Turks, soldiers, mari- 
ners, and the like. Let anti-masques not be long; they have 
been commonly of fools, satyrs, baboons, wild-men, antics,'* 
beasts, sprites, witches, Ethiops, pigmies, turquets,* nymphs, 
rustics, Cupids, statuas moving, and the like. As for angels, 
it is not comical enough to put them in anti-masques; and 
anything that is hideous, as devils, giants, is on the other 
side as unfit. But chiefly, let the music of them be recrea- 
tive, and with some strange changes. Some sweet odors 
suddenly coming forth, without any drops falling, are, in 
such a company as there is steam and heat, things of great 
pleasure and refreshment. Double masques, one of men, 
another of ladies, addeth state and variety. But all is noth- 
ing except the room be kept clear and neat. 

For justs, and tourneys, and barriers; the glories of them 
are chiefly in the chariots, wherein the challengers make their 
entry; especially if they be drawn with strange beasts: as 
lions, bears, camels, and the like; or in the devices of their 
entrance; or in the bravery of their liveries; or in the 
goodly furniture of their horses and armor. But enough of 
these toys. 



XXXVIII 

OF NATURE IN MEN 

Nature is often hidden ; sometimes overcome ; seldom ex- 
tinguished. Force maketh nature more violent in the re- 
turn;^ doctrine and discourse maketh nature less importune; 
but custom only doth alter and subdue nature. He that 
seeketh victory over his nature, let him not set himself too 
great nor too small tasks; for the first will make him de- 
jected by often failings; and the second will make him a 
small proceeder, though by often prevailings. And at the 
first let him practise with helps, as swimmers do with blad- 
ders or rushes; but after a time let him practise with dis- 
advantages, as dancers do with thick shoes. For it breeds 

„_. _^^ ' Clowns. * Turkish dwarfs. ^ Reaction. 

idU III *r 



102 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

great perfection, if the practice be harder than the use. 
Where nature is mighty, and therefore the victory hard, the 
degrees had need be, first to stay and arrest nature in time; 
like to him that would say over the four and twenty letters 
when he was angry; then to go less in quantity; as if one 
should, in forbearing wine, come from drinking healths to 
a draught at a meal; and lastly, to discontinue altogether. 
But if a man have the fortitude and resolution to enfranchise 
himself at once, that is the best: 

Optimus ille animi vindex lasdentia pectus 
Vincula qui rupit, dedoluitque semel. 

[Wouldst thou be free ? The chains that gall thy breast 
With one strong e£fort burst, and be at rest.] 

Neither is the ancient rule amiss, to bend nature as a wand 
to a contrary extreme, whereby to set it right, understand- 
ing it, where the contrary extreme is no vice. Let not a 
man force a habit upon himself with a perpetual continuance, 
but with some intermission. For both the pause reinforceth 
the new onset; and if a man that is not perfect be ever in 
practice, he shall as well practise his errors as his abilities, 
and induce one habit of both ; and there is no means to help 
this but by seasonable intermissions. But let not a man trust 
his victory over his nature too far ; for nature will lay buried 
a great time, and yet revive upon the occasion or tempta- 
tion. Like as it was with ^sop's damsel, turned from a cat 
to a woman, who sat very demurely at the board's end, till 
a mouse ran before her. Therefore let a man either avoid 
the occasion altogether; or put himself often to it, that he 
may be little moved with it. A man's nature is best per- 
ceived in privateness, for there is no affectation; in passion, 
for that putteth a man out of his precepts ; and in a new case 
or experiment, for there custom leaveth him. They are 
happy men whose natures sort with their vocations; other- 
wise they may say, multum incola fuit anima mea [my soul 
hath been long a sojourner] ; when they converse in those 
things they do not affect. In studies, whatsoever a man com- 
manedth upon himself, let him set hours for it; but whatso- 
ever is agreeable to his nature, let him take no care for any 



OF CUSTOM AND EDUCATION 103 

set times; for his thoughts will fly to it of themselves; so 
as the spaces of other business or studies will suffice. A 
man's nature runs either to herbs or weeds ; therefore let him 
seasonably water the one, and destroy the other. 



XXXIX 

OF CUSTOM AND EDUCATION 

Men's thoughts are much according to their inclination; 
their discourse and speeches according to their learning and 
infused opinions; but their deeds are after as they have 
been accustomed. And therefore, as Machiavel well noteth 
(though in an evil-favored instance), there is no trusting 
to the force of nature nor to the bravery of words, except 
it be corroborate^ by custom. His instance is, that for the 
achieving of a desperate conspiracy, a man should not rest 
upon the fierceness of any man's nature, or his resolute un- 
dertakings; but take such an one as hath had his hands 
formerly in blood. But Machiavel knew not of a Friar 
Clement, nor a Ravillac, nor a Jaureguy, nor a Baltazar 
Gerard; yet his rule holdeth still that nature, nor the en- 
gagement of words, are not so forcible as custom. Only su- 
perstition is now so well advanced, that men of the first blood 
are as firm as butchers by occupation ; and votary^ resolution 
is made equipollent^ to custom even in matter of blood. In 
other things the predominancy of custom is everywhere 
visible ; insomuch as a man would wonder to hear men pro- 
fess, protest, engage, give great words, and then do just as 
they have done before; as if they were dead images, and 
engines moved only by the wheels of custom. We see also 
the reign or tyranny of custom, what it is. The Indians (I 
mean the sect of their wise men) lay themselves quietly 
upon a stack of wood, and so sacrifice themselves by fire. 
Nay the wives strive to be burned with the corpses of their 
husbands. The lads of Sparta, of ancient time, were wont to 
be scourged upon the altar of Diana, without so much as 
queching.* I remember, in the beginning of Queen Eliza- 
1 Strengthened. '^ Based on a vow. ^ Equally powerful. * Flinching. 



104 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

beth's time of England, an Irish rebel condemned, put up a 
petition to the deputy that he might he hanged in a withe, 
and not in an halter ; because it had been so used with former 
rebels. There be monks in Russia, for penance, that will sit 
a whole night in a vessel of water, till they be engaged with 
hard ice. Many examples may be put of the force of custom, 
both upon mind and body. Therefore, since custom is the 
principal magistrate of man's life, let men by all means en- 
deavor to obtain good customs. Certainly custom is most 
perfect when it beginneth in young years : this we call edu- 
cation; which is, in effect, but an early custom. So we see, 
in languages the tongue is more pliant to all expressions and 
sounds, the joints are more supple to all feats of activity and 
motions, in youth than afterwards. For it is true that late 
learners cannot so well take the ply; except it be in some 
minds that have not suffered themselves to fix, but have kept 
themselves open and prepared to receive continual amend- 
ment, which is exceeding rare. But if the force of custom 
simple and separate be great, the force of custom copulate 
and conjoined and collegiate is far greater. For there ex- 
ample teacheth, company comforteth, emulation quickeneth, 
glory raiseth : so as in such places the force of custom is in 
his exaltation.'* Certainly the great multiplication of virtues 
upon human nature resteth upon societies well ordained, and 
disciplined. For commonwealths and good government do 
nourish virtue grown, but do not much mend the seeds. But 
the misery is, that the most effectual means are now applied 
to the ends least to be desired. 



XL 

OF FORTUNE 

It cannot be denied, but outward accidents conduce much 
to fortune; favor, opportunity, death of others, occasion 
fitting virtue. But chiefly, the mould of a man's fortune is 
in his own hands. Faher quisque fortunes suce [Every one is 
the architect of his own fortune], saith the poet. And the 

8 At its height. 



OF FORTUNE 105 

most frequent of external causes is, that the folly of one 
man is the fortune of another. For no man prospers so sud- 
denly as by others' errors. Serpens nisi serpentem comederit 
non at draco [A serpent must have eaten another serpent be- 
fore he can become a dragon]. Overt and apparent virtues 
bring forth praise; but there be secret and hidden virtues 
that bring forth fortune; certain deliveries of a man's self, 
which have no name. The Spanish name, desemboltura 
[facility in expression], partly expresseth them; when there 
be not stonds^ nor restiveness in a man's nature ; but that the 
wheels of his mind keep way with the wheels of his fortune. 
For so Livy (after he had described Cato Major in these 
words, In illo viro tantum robur corporis et animi fuit, ut 
quocunque loco natus esset, fortunam sibi facturus videretur 
[Such was his strength of body and mind, that wherever he 
had been born he could have made himself a fortune] ) falleth 
upon that, that he had versatile ingenium [a wit that could 
turn well]. Therefore if a man look sharply and attentively, 
he shall see Fortune : for though she be blind, yet she is not 
invisible. The way of fortune is like the Milken Way in the 
sky ; which is a meeting or knot of a number of small stars ; 
not seen asunder, but giving light together. So are there a 
number of little and scarce discerned virtues, or rather facul- 
ties and customs, that make men fortunate. The Italians 
note some of them, such as a man would little think. When 
they speak of one that cannot do amiss, they will throw in 
into his other conditions, that he hath Poco di mat to [a little 
out of his senses]. And certainly there be not two more for- 
tunate properties, than to have a little of the fool, and not 
too much of the honest. Therefore extreme lovers of their 
country or masters were never fortunate, neither can they 
be. For when a man placeth his thoughts without himself, 
he goeth not his own way. An hasty fortune maketh an 
enterpriser and remover (the French hath it better, entre- 
prenant, or remnant) ; but the exercised fortune maketh the 
able man. Fortune is to be honored and respected, and it be 
but for her daughters. Confidence and Reputation. For those 
two Felicity breedeth ; the first within a man's self, the latter 
in others towards him. All wise men, to decline the envy of 

^ Stops. 



106 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

their own virtues, use to ascribe them to Providence and For- 
tune ; for so they may the better assume them : and, besides, 
it is greatness in a man to be the care of the higher powers. 
So Caesar said to the pilot in the tempest, Ccssarem portas, et 
fortunam ejus [You carry Caesar and his fortune]. So Sylla 
chose the name of Felix [the Fortunate], and not of Magnus 
[the Great]. And it hath been noted, that those who ascribe 
openly too much to their own wisdom and policy end infor- 
tunate. It is written that Timotheus the Athenian, after he 
had, in the account he gave to the state of his government, 
often interlaced this speech, and in this Fortune had no part, 
never prospered in anything he undertook afterwards. Cer- 
tainly there be, whose fortunes are like Homer's verses, that 
have a slide and easiness more than the verses of other poets ; 
as Plutarch saith of Timoleon's fortune, in respect of that of 
Agesilaus or Epaminondas. And that this should be, no 
doubt it is much in a man's self. 



XLI 

OF USURY 

Many have made witty invectives against usury .^ They 
say that it is a pity the devil should have God's part, which 
is the tithe. That the usurer is the greatest Sabbath-breaker, 
because his plough goeth every Sunday. That the usurer is 
the drone that Virgil speaketh of; 

Ignavum f ucos pecus a praesepibus arcent. 

[They drive away the drones, a slothful race, from the 
hives.] That the usurer breaketh the first law that was made 
for mankind after the fall, which was, in sudore vultus tui 
comedes panem tuum; not, in sudore vidtus alieni [in the 
sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread — not in the sweat of 
another's face]. That usurers should have orange-tawny^ 
bonnets, because they do judaize. That it is against nature 
for money to beget money ; and the Hke. I say this only, that 

1 Interest, not necessarily excessive. ^ The color the Jews used 
to be required to wear. 



OF USURY 107 

usury is a concessum propter duritiem cordis [a thing al- 
lowed by reason of the hardness of men's hearts] ; for since 
there must be borrowing and lending, and men are so hard 
of heart as they will not lend freely, usury must be permitted. 
Some others have made suspicious and cunning propositions 
of banks, discovery^ of men's estates, and other inventions. 
But few have spoken of usury usefully. It is good to set 
before us the incommodities and commodities of usury, that 
the good may be either weighed out or culled out ; and warily 
to provide, that while we make forth to that which is better, 
we meet not with that which is worse. 

The discommodities of usury are, First, that it makes 
fewer merchants. For were it not for this lazy trade of 
usury, money would not lie still, but would in great part be 
employed upon merchandizing; which is the vena porta*' of 
wealth in a state. The second, that it makes poor merchants. 
For as a farmer cannot husband his ground so well if he sit 
at a great rent; so the merchant cannot drive his trade so 
well, if he sit at great usury. The third is incident to the 
other two ; and that is the decay of customs of kings or states, 
which ebb or flow with merchandizing. The fourth, that it 
bringeth the treasure of a realm or state into a few hands. 
For the usurer being at certainties, and others at uncertain- 
ties, at the end of the game most of the money will be in 
the box; and ever a state flourisheth when wealth is more 
equally spread. The fifth, that it beats down the price of 
land ; for the employment of money is chiefly either merchan- 
dizing or purchasing; and usury waylays both. The sixth, 
that it doth dull and damp all industries, improvements, and 
new inventions, wherein money would be stirring, if it were 
not for this slug. The last, that it is the canker and ruin of 
many men's estates ; which in process of time breeds a public 
poverty. 

On the other side, the commodities of usury are, first, that 
howsoever usury in some respect hindereth merchandizing, 
yet in some other it advanceth it; for it is certain that the 
greatest part of trade is driven by young merchants, upon 
borrowing at interest; so as if the usurer either call in or 
keep back his money, there will ensue presently a great stand 

2 Revealing. * Essay xix. n. 4. 



108 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

of trade. The second is, that were it not for this easy bor- 
rowing upon interest, men's necessities would draw upon 
them a most sudden undoing; in that they would be forced 
to sell their means (be it lands or goods) far under foot;^ 
and so, whereas usury doth but gnaw upon them, bad markets 
would swallow them quite up. As for mortgaging or pawn- 
ing, it will little mend the matter : for either men will not take 
pawns without use; or if they do, they will look precisely 
for the forfeiture. I remember a cruel moneyed man in the 
country, that would say. The devil take this usury, it keep 
us from forfeitures of mortgages and bonds. The third and 
last is, that it is a vanity to conceive that there would be 
ordinary borrowing without profit; and it is impossible to 
conceive the number of inconveniences that will ensue, if 
borrowing be cramped. Therefore to speak of the abolishing 
of usury is idle. All states have ever had it, in one kind 
or rate, or other. So as that opinion must be sent to Utopia." 

To speak now of the reformation and reiglement'' of usury ; 
how the discommodities of it may be best avoided, and the 
commodities retained. It appears by the balance of com- 
modities and discommodities of usury, two things are to be 
reconciled. The one, that the tooth of usury be grinded, that 
it bite not too much; the other, that there be left open a 
means to invite moneyed men to lend to the merchants,, for 
the continuing and quickening of trade. This cannot be 
done, except you introduce two several sorts of usury, a less 
and a greater. For if you reduce usury to one low rate, 
it will ease the common borrower, but the merchant will 
be to seek for money. And it is to be noted, that the trade 
of merchandize, being the most lucrative, may bear usury 
at a good rate ; other contracts not so. 

To serve both intentions, the way would be briefly thus. 
That there be two rates of usury: the one free, and general 
for all; the other under license only, to certain persons and 
in certain places of merchandizing. First, therefore, let usury 
in general be reduced to five in the hundred ; and let that 
rate be proclaimed to be free and current; and let the state 
shut itself out to take any penalty for the same. This will 

* Below the real value. * Sir Thomas More's imaginary ideal 

commonwealth. '' Regulation. 



OF USURY 109 

preserve borrowing from any general stop or dryness. This 
will ease infinite borrowers in the country. This will, in 
good part, raise the price of land, because land purchased 
at sixteen years' purchase will yield six in the hundred, and 
somewhat more ; whereas this rate of interest yields but five. 
This by like reason will encourage and edge industrious and 
profitable improvements; because many will rather venture 
in that kind than take five in the hundred, especially having 
been used to greater profit. Secondly, let there be certain 
persons licensed to lend to known merchants upon usury at 
a higher rate ; and let it be with the cautions following. Let 
the rate be, even with the merchant himself, somewhat more 
easy than that he used formerly to pay; for by that means 
all borrowers shall have som^e ease by this reformation, be 
he merchant, or whosoever. Let it be no bank or common 
stock, but every man be master of his own money. Not 
that I altogether mislike banks, but they will hardly be 
brooked, in regard of certain suspicions. Let the state be 
answered some small matter for the license, and the rest 
left to the lender ; for if the abatement be but small, it will 
no whit discourage the lender. For he, for example, that 
took before ten or nine in the hundred, will sooner descend 
to eight in the hundred than give over his trade of usury, 
and go from certain gains to gains of hazard. Let these 
licensed lenders be in number indefinite, but restrained to 
certain principal cities and towns of merchandizing; for 
then they will be hardly able to color other men's moneys 
in the country: so as the license of nine will not suck away 
the current rate of five; for no man will lend his moneys 
far off, nor put them into unknown hands. 

If it be objected that this doth in a sort authorize usury, 
which before was in some places but permissive ; the answer 
is, that it is better to mitigate usury by declaration, than 
to suffer it to rage by connivance. 



110 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

XLII 

OF YOUTH AND AGE 

A MAN that is young in years may be old in hours, if he 
have lost no time. But that happeneth rarely. Generally, 
youth is like the first cogitations, not so wise as the second. 
For there is a youth in thoughts, as well as in ages. And 
yet the invention of young men is more lively than that of 
old; and imaginations stream into their minds better, and 
as it were more divinely. Natures that have much heat and 
great and violent desires and perturbations are not ripe for 
action till they have passed the meridian of their years; 
as it was with Julius Caesar and Septimius Severus. Of the 
latter of whom it is said, Juventutem egit errorihus, imo 
furorihus, plenam [He passed a youth full of errors, yea of 
madnesses]. And yet he was the ablest emperor, almost, 
of all the list. But reposed natures may do well in youth. 
As it is seen in Augustus Csesar, Cosmus Duke of Florence, 
Gaston de Foix, and others. On the other side, heat and 
vivacity in age is an excellent composition for business. 
Young men are fitter to invent than to judge; fitter for ex- 
ecution than for counsel; and fitter for new projects than 
for settled business. For the experience of age, in things 
that fall within the compass of it, directeth them; but in 
new things, abuseth^ them. The errors of young men are 
the ruin of business; but the errors of aged men amount 
but to this, that more might have been done, or sooner. 
Young men, in the conduct and manage of actions, embrace 
more than they can hold; stir more than they can quiet; fly 
to the end, without consideration of the means and degrees; 
pursue some few principles which they have chanced upon 
absurdly; care not to^ innovate, which draws unknown in- 
conveniences; use extreme rernedies at first; and that which 
doubleth all errors will not acknowledge or retract them; 
like an unready^ horse, that will neither stop nor turn. Men 
of age object too much, consult too long, adventure too little, 
repent too soon, and seldom drive business home to the full 
period/ but content themselves with a mediocrity of success. 

1 Deceiveth. 2 Are reckless in innovating. ^ Badly trained. * Completion. 



OF BEAUTY 111 

Certainly it is good to compound employments of both; for 
that will be good for the present, because the virtues of either 
age may correct the defects of both ; and good for succession, 
that young men may be learners, while men in age are actors ; 
and, lastly, good for extern accidents, because authority fol- 
loweth old men, and favor and popularity youth. But for the 
moral part, perhaps youth will have the pre-eminence, as 
age hath for the politic. A certain rabbin, upon the text, 
Your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall 
dream dreams, inferreth that young men are admitted nearer 
to God than old, because vision is a clearer revelation than 
a dream. And certainly, the more a man drinketh of the 
world, the more it intoxicateth ; and age doth profit rather 
in the powers of understanding, than in the virtues of the 
will and affections. There be some have an over-early ripe- 
ness in their years, which fadeth betimes. These are, first, 
such as have brittle wits, the edge whereof is soon turned ; 
such as was Hermogenes the rhetorician, whose books are 
exceeding subtle; who afterwards waxed stupid. A second 
sort is of those that have some natural dispositions which 
have better grace in youth than in age; such as is a fluent 
and luxuriant speech; which becomes youth well, but not 
age : so Tully saith of Hortensius, Idem manebat, neque idem 
decebat [He continued the same, when the same was not be- 
coming]. The third is of such as take too high a strain 
at the first, and are magnanimous more than tract of years 
can uphold. As was Scipio Africanus, of whom Livy saith 
in effect. Ultima primis cedebant [His last actions were not 
equal to his first.] 



XLHI 

OF BEAUTY 

Virtue is like a rich stone, best plain set ; and surely virtue 
is best in a body that is comely, though not of delicate 
features; and that hath rather dignity of presence than 
beauty of aspect. Neither is it almost seen, that very beau- 
tiful persons are otherwise of great virtue ; as if nature were 
rather busy not to err, than in labor to produce excellency. 



112 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

And therefore they prove accomplished, but not of great 
spirit; and study rather behavior than virtue. But this 
holds not always : for Augustus Caesar, Titus Vespasianus, 
Philip le Bel of France, Edward the Fourth of England, 
Alcibiades of Athens, Ismael the Sophy of Persia, were all 
high and great spirits; and yet the most beautiful men of 
their times. In beauty, that of favor^ is more than that of 
color; and that of decent^ and gracious motion more than 
that of favor. That is the best part of beauty, which a 
picture cannot express ; no nor the first sight of the life. There 
is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in 
the proportion. A man cannot tell whether Apelles or Albert 
Durer were the more trifler; whereof the one would make 
a personage by geometrical proportions ; the other, by taking 
the best parts out of divers faces, to make one excellent. 
Such personages, I think, would please nobody but the painter 
that made them. Not but I think a painter may make a 
better face than ever was; but he must do it by a kind 
of felicity (as a musician that maketh an excellent air in 
music), and not by rule. A man shall see faces, that if you 
examine them part by part, you shall find never a good ; and 
yet altogether do well. If it be true that the principal part 
of beauty is in decent motion, certainly it is no marvel 
though persons in years seem many times more amiable; 
pulchrorum aiitumnus pulcher [beautiful persons have a 
beautiful autumn] ; for no youth can be comely but by par- 
don,^ and considering the youth as to make up the comeliness. 
Beauty is as summer fruits, which are easy to corrupt, and 
cannot last; and for the most part it makes a dissolute 
youth, and an age a little out of countenance; but yet cer- 
tainly again, if it light well, it maketh virtue shine, and vices 
blush. 



XLIV 

OF DEFORMITY 

Deformed persons are commonly even with nature; for 
as nature hath done ill by them, so do they by nature ; being 
^ Feature. ^ Becoming. » Making special allowance. 



OF DEFORMITY 113 

for the most part (as the Scripture saith) void of natural 
affection; and so they have their revenge of nature. Cer- 
tainly there is a consent^ between the body and the mind; 
and where nature erreth in the one, she ventureth in the 
other. Uhi peccat in uno, periclitafur in altera. But be- 
cause there is in man an election touching the frame of his 
mind, and a necessity in the frame of his body, the stars 
of natural inclination are sometimes obscured by the sun 
of discipline and virtue. Therefore it is good to consider 
of deformity, not as a sign, which is more deceivable; but as 
a cause, which seldom faileth of the effect. Whosoever hath 
anything fixed in his person that doth induce contempt, hath 
also a perpetual spur in himself to rescue and deliver him- 
self from scorn. Therefore all deformed persons are ex- 
treme bold. First, as in their own defence, as being exposed 
to scorn; but in process of time by a general habit. Also 
it stirreth in them industry, and especially of this kind, to 
watch and observe the weakness of others, that they may 
have somewhat to repay. Again, in their superiors, it 
quencheth jealousy towards them, as persons that they 
think they may at pleasure despise : and it layeth their com- 
petitors and emulators asleep ; as never believing they should 
be in possibility of advancement, till they see them in pos- 
session. So that upon the matter," in a great wit, deformity 
is an advantage to rising. Kings in ancient times (and at 
this present in some countries) were wont to put great trust 
in eunuchs; because they that are envious towards all are 
more obnoxious^ and officious towards one. But yet their 
trust towards them hath rather been as to good spials* and 
good whisperers, than good magistrates and officers. And 
much like is the reason of deformed persons. Still the ground 
is, they will, if they be of spirit, seek to free themselves from 
scorn ; which must be either by virtue or malice ; and there- 
fore let it not be marvelled if sometimes they prove excellent 
persons; as was Agesilaus, Zanger the son of Solyman, 
^Esop, Gasca, President of Peru; and Socrates may go like- 
wise amongst them; with others. 

1 Agreement. ^ On the whole. ^ Subservient. * Spies. 



114 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

XLV 

OF BUILDING 

Houses are built to live in, and not to look on; therefore 
let use be preferred before uniformity, except where both 
may be had. Leave the goodly fabrics of houses, for beauty 
only, to the enchanted palaces of the poets; who build them 
with small cost. He that builds a fair house upon an ill seat, 
committeth himself to prison. Neither do I reckon it an 
ill seat only where the air is unwholesome; but likewise 
where the air is unequal; as you shall see many fine seats 
set upon a knap^ of ground, environed with higher hills 
round about it; whereby the heat of the sun is pent in, and 
the wind gathereth as in troughs; so as you shall have, 
and that suddenly, as great diversity of heat and cold as if 
you dwelt in several places. Neither is it ill air only that 
maketh an ill seat, but ill ways, ill markets ; and, if you will 
consult with Momus,^ ill neighbors. I speak not of many 
more ; want of water ; want of wood, shade, and shelter ; want 
of fruitfulness, and mixture of grounds of several natures; 
want of prospect; want of level grounds; want of places at 
some near distance for sports of hunting, hawking, and races ; 
too near the sea, too remote ; having the commodity^ of navi- 
gable rivers, or the discommodity of their overflowing ; too far 
off from great cities, which may hinder business, or too 
near them, which lurcheth* all provisions, and maketh every- 
thing dear; where a man hath a great living laid together, 
and where he is scanted: all which, as it is impossible per- 
haps to find together, so it is good to know them, and think of 
them, that a man may take as many as he can ; and if he have 
several dwellings, that he sort them so, that what he wanteth 
in the one he may find in the other. Lucullus answered Pom- 
pey well ; who, when he saw his stately galleries, and rooms so 
large and lightsome, in one of his houses, said, Surely an ex- 
cellent place for summer, hut how do you in winter? Lu- 
cullus answered. Why, do you not think ine as wise as some 
fowl are, that ever change their abode towards the winter? 

1 Knoll. 2 The god of fault-finding. 3 Lat., no commodity or 
convenience, which gives better sense. * Intercepts. 



OF BUILDING US 

To pass from the seat to the house itself; we will do as 
Cicero doth in the orator's art ; who writes books De Oratore, 
and a book he entitles Orator; whereof the former delivers 
the precepts of the art, and the latter the perfection. We 
will therefore describe a princely palace, making a brief 
model thereof. For it is strange to see, now in Europe, such 
huge buildings as the Vatican and Escurial and some others 
be, and yet scarce a very fair room in them. 

First, therefore, I say you cannot have a perfect palace 
except you have two several sides; a side for the banquet, 
as it is spoken of in the book of Hester, and a side for the 
household; the one for feasts and triumphs, and the other 
for dwelling. I understand both these sides to be not only 
returns,^ but parts of the front; and to be uniform without, 
though severally partitioned within; and to be on both sides 
of a great and stately tower in the midst of the front, that, 
as it were, joineth them together on either hand. I would 
have on the side of the banquet, in front, one only goodly 
room above stairs, of some forty foot high; and under it a 
room for a dressing or preparing place at times of triumphs. 
On the other side, which is the household side, I wish it 
divided at the first into a hall and a chapel (with a partition 
between) ; both of good state and bigness; and those not 
to go all the length, but to have at the further end a winter 
and a summer parlor, both fair. And under these rooms, 
a fair and large cellar sunk under ground; and likewise 
some privy kitchens, with butteries and pantries, and the 
like. As for the tower, I would have it two stories, of 
eighteen foot high apiece, above the two wings ; and a goodly 
leads upon the top, railed with statuas interposed; and the 
same tower to be divided into rooms, as shall be thought fit. 
The stairs likewise to the upper rooms, let them be upon a 
fair open neweV and finely railed in with images of wood, 
cast into a brass color; and a very fair landing-place at 
the top. But this to be, if you do not point any of the 
lower rooms for a dining place of servants. For other- 
wise you shall have the servants' dinner after your own : 
for the steam of it will come up as in a tunnel. And so much 

s Wings running back from the front. ^ ^ The center pillar, or, 
when " open," the well, of a winding stair. 



116 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

for the front. Only I understand the height of the first 
stairs to be sixteen foot, which is the height of the lower 
room. 

Beyond this front is there to be a fair court, but three 
sides of it, of a far lower building than the front. And 
in all the four corners of that court fair staircases, cast into 
turrets, on the outside, and not within the row of buildings 
themselves. But those towers are not to be of the height of 
the front, but rather proportionable to the lower building. Let 
the court not be paved, for that striketh up a great heat 
in summer, and much cold in winter. But only some side 
alleys, with a cross, and the quarters to graze, being kept 
shorn, but not too near shorn. The row of return on the 
banquet side, let it be all stately galleries : in which galleries 
let there be three, or five, fine cupolas in the length of it, 
placed at equal distance ; and fine colored windows of several 
works. On the household side, chambers of presence' and or- 
dinary entertainments, with some bed-chambers; and let 
all three sides be a double house, without thorough lights 
on the sides, that you may have rooms from the sun, both 
for forenoon and afternoon. Cast^ it also, that you may 
have rooms both for summer and winter; shady for summer, 
and warm for winter. You shall have sometimes fair houses 
so full of glass that one cannot tell where to become to be 
out of the sun or cold. For inbowed windows, I hold them 
of good use (in cities, indeed, upright do better, in respect 
of the uniformity towards the street) ; for they be pretty 
retiring places for conference; and besides, they keep both 
the wind and sun off; for that which would strike almost 
through the room doth scarce pass the window. But let them 
be but few, four in the court, on the sides only. 

Beyond this court, let there be an inward court, of the 
same square and height; which is to be environed with the 
garden on all sides ; and in the inside, cloistered on all sides, 
upon decent and beautiful arches, as high as the first story. 
On the under story, towards the garden, let it be turned 
to a grotto, or place of shade, or estivation.^ And only have 
opening and windows towards the garden; and be level 
upon the floor, no whit sunken under ground, to avoid all 
f Reception-rooms. « Plan, » For summer use. 



OF GARDENS 117 

dampishness. And let there be a fountain, or some fair 
work of statuas in the midst of this court; and to be paved 
as the other court was. These buildings to be for privy 
lodgings on both sides; and the end for privy galleries. 
Whereof you must foresee that one of them be for an in- 
firmary, if the prince or any special person should be sick, 
with chambers, bed-chamber, ante-camera, and recamera^" 
joining to it. This upon the second story .> Upon the 
ground story, a fair gallery, open, upon pillars; and upon 
the third story likewise, an open gallery, upon pillars, to 
take the prospect and freshness of the garden. At both 
corners of the further side, by way of return, let there be 
two delicate or rich cabinets, daintily paved, richly hanged, 
glazed with crystalline glass, and a rich cupola in the midst; 
and all other elegancy that may be thought upon. In the 
upper gallery too, I wish that there may be, if the place 
will yield it, some fountains running in divers places from 
the wall, with some fine avoidances." And thus much for 
the model of the palace ; save that you must have, before you 
come to the front, three courts. A green court plain, with 
a wall about it; a second court of the same, but more gar- 
nished, with little turrets, or rather embellishments, upon 
the wall; and a third court, to make a square with the 
front, but not to be built, nor yet enclosed with a naked wall, 
but enclosed with terraces, leaded aloft, and fairly garnished, 
on the three sides ; and cloistered on the inside, with pillars, 
and not with arches below. As for offices, let them stand 
at distance, with some low galleries, to pass from them to the 
palace itself. 



XL VI 

OF GARDENS 

God Almighty first planted a garden. And indeed it is 
the purest of human pleasures. It is the greatest refreshment 
to the spirits of man ; without which buildings and palaces 
are but gross handiworks; and a man shall ever see that 
when ages grow to civility and elegancy, men come to build 

Retiring-room. ^^ Secret outlets. 
HC III 8 



118 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

stately sooner than to garden finely; as if gardening were 
the greater perfection. I do hold it, in the royal ordering 
of gardens, there ought to be gardens for all the months 
in the year; in which severally things of beauty may be 
then in season. For December, and January, and the latter 
part of November, you must take such things as are green 
all winter: holly; ivy; bays; juniper; cypress-trees; 
yew; pine-apple-trees;^ fir-trees; rosemary; lavender; peri- 
winkle, the white, the purple, and the blue; germander; 
flags; orange-trees; lemon-trees; and myrtles, if they be 
stoved;^ and sweet marjoram, warm set. There followeth, 
for the latter part of January and February, the mezereon- 
tree, which then blossoms; crocus vernus,^ both the yellow 
and the grey ; primroses ; anemones ; the early tulippa ; 
hyacinthus orientalis ; chamairis; fritellaria.* For March, 
there come violets, specially the single blue, which are 
the earliest; the yellow daffodil; the daisy; the almond- 
tree in blossom; the peach-tree in blossom; the cornelian- 
tree in blossom; sweet-briar. In April follow the double 
white violet; the wall-flower; the stock-gilliflower ; the cow- 
slip; flower-delices, and lilies of all natures; rosemary- 
flowers; the tulippa; the double peony; the pale daffodil; 
the French honeysuckle; the cherry-tree in blossom; the 
damson and plum-trees in blossom; the white thorn in 
leaf; the lilac-tree. In May and June come pinks of all sorts, 
specially the blush-pink; roses of all kinds, except the musk, 
which comes later; honeysuckles; strawberries; bugloss; 
columbine; the French marigold, flos Africanus; cherry-tree 
in fruit; ribes;^ figs in fruit; rasps; vine-flowers; lavender 
in flowers; the sweet satyrian, with the white flower; herba 
muscaria;^ lilium convallium ;'^ the apple-tree in blossom. In 
July come gilliflowers of all varieties; musk-roses; the lime- 
tree in blossom; early pears and plums in fruit; jennetings,^ 
codlins.^ In August come plums of all sorts in fruit; 
pears; apricocks; berberries; filberds; musk-melons; monks- 
hoods, of all colors. In September come grapes; apples; 
poppies of all colors; peaches; melocotones ;^ nectarines; 

1 Pine trees. The cones were called pineapples. ^ Kept in a hothouse. 
3 Spring crocus. * A kind of lily. ^ Currants or gooseberries. 

6 Grape-hyacinth. ^ Ljjy of ^he valley. » Kinds of apples. 
® A kind of peach. 



OF GARDENS 119 

cornelians; wardens;" quinces. In October and the begin- 
ning of November come services; medlars; bullaces;^^ roses 
cut or removed to come late; holly-hocks; and such like. 
These particulars are for the climate of London; but my 
meaning is perceived, that you may have ver perpetuum 
[perpetual spring], as the place affords. 

And because the breath of flowers is far sweeter in the 
air (where it comes and goes like the warbling of music) 
than in the hand, therefore nothing is more fit for that de- 
light, than to know what be the flowers and plants that' do 
best perfume the air. Roses, damask and red, are fast 
flowers^^ of their smells; so that you may walk by a whole 
row of them, and find nothing of their sweetness ; yea though 
it be in a morning's dew. Bays likewise yield no smell as 
they grow. Rosemary little; nor sweet marjoram. That 
which above all others yields the sweetest smell in the air 
is the violet, specially the white double violet, which comes 
twice a year ; about the middle of April, and about Bartholo- 
mew-tide.^^ Next to that is the musk-rose. Then the straw- 
berry-leaves dying, which [yield] a most excellent cordial 
smell. Then the flower of the vines; it is a little dust, like 
the dust of a bent," which grows upon the cluster in the 
first coming forth. Then sweet-briar. Then wall-flowers, 
which are very delightful to be set under a parlor or lower 
chamber window. Then pinks and gilliflowers,^^ espe- 
cially the matted pink and clove gilliflower. Then the 
flowers of the lime-tree. Then the honeysuckles, so they be 
somewhat afar off. Of bean-flowers I speak not, because 
they are field flowers. But those which perfume the air 
most delightfully, not passed by as the rest, but being trodden 
upon and crushed, are three ; that is, burnet, wild-thyme, and 
watermints. Therefore you are to set whole alleys of them, 
to have the pleasure when you walk or tread. 

For gardens (speaking of those which are indeed prince- 
like, as we have done of buildings), the contents ought not 
well to be under thirty acres of ground; and to be divided 
into three parts; a green in the entrance; a heath or desert 
in the going forth ; and the main garden in the midst ; besides 

10 Large baking pears. " A sort of plum. 12 N^t yielding odor freely. 
13 August 24. 1* A kind of grass. ^^ Carnations. 



120 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

alleys on both sides. And I like well that four acres of 
ground be assigned to the green ; six to the heath ; four and 
four to either side; and twelve to the main garden. The 
green hath two pleasures: the one, because nothing is more 
pleasant to the eye than green grass kept finely shorn; the 
other, because it will give you a fair alley in the midst, by 
which you may go in front upon a stately hedge, which is to 
enclose the garden. But because the alley will be long, and, 
in great heat of the year or day, you ought not to buy the 
shade in the garden by going in the sun through the green, 
therefore you are, of either side the green, to plant a covert 
alley upon carpenter's work, about twelve foot in height, 
by which you may go in shade into the garden. As for the 
making of knots or figures, with divers colored earths, that 
they may lie under the windows of the house on that side 
which the garden stands, they be but toys; you may see as 
good sights many times in tarts. The garden is best to be 
square, encompassed on all the four sides with a stately arched 
hedge. The arches to be upon pillars of carpenter's work, 
of some ten foot high, and six foot broad; and the spaces 
between of the same dimension with the breadth of the arch. 
Over the arches let there be an entire hedge of some four 
foot high, framed also upon carpenter's work; and upon the 
upper hedge, over every arch, a little turret, with a belly, 
enough to receive a cage of birds : and over every space be- 
tween the arches some other little figure, with broad plates of 
round colored glass gilt, for the sun to play upon. But this 
hedge I intend to be raised upon a bank, not steep, but gently 
slope, of some six foot, set all with flowers. Also I under- 
stand, that this square of the garden should not be the whole 
breadth of the ground, but to leave on either side ground 
enough for diversity of side alleys; unto which the two 
covert alleys of the green may deliver you. But there must 
be no alleys with hedges at either end of this great enclosure ; 
not at the hither end, for letting^® your prospect upon this 
fair hedge from the green ; nor at the further end, for letting 
your prospect from the hedge through the arches upon the 
heath. 

For the ordering of the ground within the great hedge, I 

*^ Hindering. 



1 



OF GARDENS 121 

leave it to variety of device ; advising nevertheless that what- 
soever form you cast it into, first, it be not too busy, or full 
of work. Wherein I, for my part, do not like images cut 
out in juniper or other garden stuff; they be for children. 
Little low hedges, round, like welts, with some pretty pyra- 
mids, I like well; and in some places, fair columns upon 
frames of carpenter's work. I would also have the alleys 
spacious and fair. You may have closer alleys upon the 
side grounds, but none in the main garden. I wish also, in 
the very middle, a fair mount, with three ascents, and alleys, 
enough for four to walk abreast; which I would have to be 
perfect circles, without any bulwarks or embossments; and 
the whole mount to be thirty foot high; and some fine ban- 
queting-house, with some chimneys neatly cast, and without 
too much glass. 

For fountains, they are a great beauty and refreshment; 
but pools mar all, and make the garden unwholesome, and 
full of flies and frogs. Fountains I intend to be of two 
natures : the one that sprinkleth or spouteth water ; the other 
a fair receipt of water, of some thirty or forty foot square, 
but without fish, or slime, or mud. For the first, the orna- 
ments of images gilt, or of marble, which are in use, do well : 
but the main matter is so to convey the water, as it never 
stay, either in the bowls or in the cistern; that the water be 
never by rest discolored, green or red or the like ; or gather 
any mossiness or putrefaction. Besides that, it is to be 
cleansed every day by the hand. Also some steps up to it, 
and some fine pavement about it, doth well. As for the 
other kind of fountain, which we may call a bathing pool, 
it may admit much curiosity and beauty; wherewith we will 
not trouble ourselves: as, that the bottom be finely paved, 
and with images; the sides likewise; and withal embellished 
with colored glass, and such things of lustre; encompassed 
also with fine rails of low statuas. But the main point is 
the same which we mentioned in the former kind of fountain ; 
which is, that the water be in perpetual motion, fed by a 
water higher than the pool, and delivered into it by fair 
spouts, and then discharged away under ground by some 
equality of bores, that it stay little. And for fine devices, of 
arching water without spilling, and making it rise in several 



122 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

forms (of feathers, drinking glasses, canopies, and the like), 
they be pretty things to look on, but nothing to health and 
sweetness. 

For the heath, which was the third part of our plot, I 
wish it to be framed, as much as may be, to a natural wild- 
ness. Trees I would have none in it, but some thickets made 
only of sweet-briar and honeysuckle, and some wild vine 
amongst; and the ground set with violets, strawberries, 
and primroses. For these are sweet, and prosper in 
the shade. And these to be in the heath, here and there, 
not in any order. I like also little heaps, in the nature of 
mole-hills (such as are in wild heaths), to be set, some with 
wild thyme; some with pinks; some with germander, that 
gives a good flower to the eye; some with periwinkle; some 
with violets; some with strawberries; some with cowslips; 
some with daisies; some with red roses; some with lilium 
convallium ; some with sweet-williams red ; some with bear's- 
foot : and the like low flowers, being withal sweet and sightly. 
Part of which heaps are to be with standards of little bushes 
pricked^' upon their top, and part without. The standards 
to be roses; juniper; holly; berberries (but here and there, 
because of the smell of their blossom) ; red currants ; goose- 
berries; rosemary; bays; sweet-briar; and such like. But 
these standards to be kept with cutting, that they grow not 
out of course. 

For the side grounds, you are to fill them with variety of 
alleys, private, to give a full shade, some of them, whereso- 
ever the sun be. You are to frame some of them likewise 
for shelter, that when the wind blows sharp you may walk 
as in a gallery. And those alleys must be likewise hedged at 
both ends, to keep out the wind ; and these closer alleys must 
be ever finely gravelled, and no grass, because of going wet. 
In many of these alleys, likewise, you are to set fruit-trees 
of all sorts ; as weU upon the walls as in ranges. And this 
would be generally observed, that the borders wherein you 
plant your fruit-trees be fair and large, and low, and not 
steep; and set with fine flowers, but thin and sparingly, 
lest they deceive^^ the trees. At the end of both the side 
grounds, I would have a mount of some pretty height, leav- 

" Planted. ^ Rob. 



OF NEGOTIATING 123 

ing the wall of the enclosure breast high, to look abroad into 
the fields. 

For the main garden, I do not deny but there should be 
some fair alleys ranged on both sides, with fruit-trees; and 
some pretty tufts of fruit-trees, and arbors with seats, set in 
some decent order ; but these to be by no means set too thick ; 
but to leave the main garden so as it be not close, but the 
air open and free. For as for shade, I would have you rest 
upon the alleys of the side grounds, there to walk, if you be 
disposed, in the heat of the year or day; but to make ac- 
count that the main garden is for the more temperate parts 
of the year ; and in the heat of summer, for the morning and 
the evening, or overcast days. 

For aviaries, I like them not, except they be of that large- 
ness as they may be turfed, and have living plants and bushes 
set in them ; that the birds may have more scope, and natural 
nestling, and that no foulness appear in the floor of the 
aviary. So I have made a platform^® of a princely garden, 
partly by precept, partly by drawing, not a model, but some 
general lines of it; and in this I have spared for no cost. 
But it is nothing for great princes, that for the most part 
taking advice with workmen, with no less cost set their 
things together; and sometimes add statuas and such things 
for state and magnificence, but nothing to the true pleasure 
of a garden. 



XLVII 

OF NEGOTIATING 

It is generally better to deal by speech than by letter ; and 
by the mediation of a third than by a man's self. Letters 
are good, when a man would draw an answer by letter back 
again; or when it may serve for a man's justification after- 
wards to produce his own letter; or where it may be danger 
to be interrupted, or heard by pieces. To deal in person is 
good, when a man's face breedeth regard, as commonly with 
inferiors; or in tender cases, where a man's eye upon the 
countenance of him with whom he speaketh may give him a 

i» Plan. 



124 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

direction how far to go; and generally, where a man will 
reserve to himself liberty either to disavow or to expound. 
In choice of instruments, it is better to choose men of a 
plainer sort, that are like to do that that is committed to 
them, and to report back again faithfully the success, than 
those that are cunning to contrive out of other men's busi- 
ness somewhat to grace themselves, and will help the matter 
in report for satisfaction' sake. Use also such persons as 
affect^ the business wherein they are employed; for that 
quickeneth much; and such as are fit for the matter; as bold 
men for expostulation, fair-spoken men for persuasion, crafty 
men for inquiry and observation, froward^ and absurd^ men 
for business that doth not well bear out* itself. Use also 
such as have been lucky, and prevailed before in things 
wherein you have employed them ; for that breeds confidence, 
and they will strive to maintain their prescription. It is 
better to sound a person with whom one deals afar off, than 
to fall upon the point at first; except you mean to surprise 
him by some short question. It is better dealing with men in 
appetite, than with those that are where they would be. If 
a man deal with another upon conditions, the start or first 
performance is all; which a man cannot reasonably demand, 
except either the nature of the thing be such, which must 
go before; or else a man can persuade the other party that 
he shall still need him in some other thing ; or else that he be 
counted the honester man. All practice^ is to discover,^ or to 
work.' Men discover themselves in trust, in passion, at un- 
awares, and of necessity, when they would have somewhat 
done and cannot find an apt pretext. If you would work any 
man, you must either know his nature and fashions, and so 
lead him ; or his ends, and so persuade him ; or his weakness 
and disadvantages, and so awe him ; or those that have inter- 
est in him, and so govern him. In deahng with cunning per- 
sons, we must ever consider their ends, to interpret their 
speeches ; and it is good to say little to them, and that which 
they least look for. In all negotiations of difficulty, a man 
may not look to sow and reap at once ; but must prepare busi- 
ness, and so ripen it by degrees. 

^ Like. 3 Stubborn. ^ Stupid. * Justify. ^ Scheming. 

^ Reveal. '^ Manage, make use of. 



OF FOLLOWERS AND FRIENDS 125 

XLVIII 

OF FOLLOWERS AND FRIENDS 

Costly followers are not to be liked; lest while a man 
maketh his train longer, he make his wings shorter. I reckon 
to be costly, not them alone which charge the purse, but 
which are wearisome and importune in suits. Ordinary follow- 
ers ought to challenge no higher conditions than countenance, 
recommendation, and protection from wrongs. Factious 
followers are worse to be liked, which follow not upon affec- 
tion to him with whom they range themselves, but upon 
discontentment conceived against some other; whereupon 
commonly ensueth that ill intelligence^ that we many times 
see between great personages. Likewise glorious^ followers, 
who make themselves as trumpets of the commendation of 
those they follow, are full of inconvenience; for they taint 
business through want of secrecy; and they export honor 
from a man, and make him a return in envy. There is a 
kind of followers likewise which are dangerous, being indeed 
espials;^ which inquire the secrets of the house, and bear 
tales of them to others. Yet such men, many times, are in 
great favor; for they are officious, and commonly exchange 
tales. The following by certain estates of men, answerable 
to that which a great person himself professeth (as of sol- 
diers to him that hath been employed in the wars, and the 
like), hath ever been a thing civil,* and well taken even in 
monarchies; so it be without too much pomp or popularity. 
But the most honorable kind of following is to be followed 
as one that apprehendeth to advance virtue and desert in all 
sorts of persons. And yet, where there is no eminent odds 
in sufficiency, it is better to take with the more passable,* 
than with the more able. And besides, to speak truth, in base 
times active men are of more use than virtuous. It is true 
that in government it is good to use men of one rank equally : 
for to countenance some extraordinarily is to make them 
insolent, and the rest discontent; because they may claim a 
due. But contrariwise, in favor, to use men with much dif- 
ference and election is good; for it maketh the persons pre- 

^ Understanding. ^ BoastfuL ^ Spies. * Proper. ^ Mediocre. 



126 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

f erred more tharxkful, and the rest more officious : because all 
is of favor. It is good discretion not to make too much of 
any man at the first; because one cannot hold out that pro- 
portion. To be governed (as we call it) by one is not safe; 
for it shows softness, and gives a freedom to scandal and 
disreputation; for those that would not censure or speak ill 
of a man immediately will talk more boldly of those that are 
so great with them, and thereby wound their honor. Yet to 
be distracted with many is worse ; for it makes men to be of 
the last impression, and full of change. To take advice of 
some few friends is ever honorable; for lookers-on many 
times see more than gamesters; and the vale best discovereth 
the hill. There is little friendship in the world, and least of 
all between equals, which was wont to be magnified. That 
that is, is between superior and inferior, whose fortunes may 
comprehend the one the other. 



XLIX 

OF SUITORS 

Many ill matters and projects are undertaken; and private 
suits do putrefy the public good. Many good matters are 
undertaken with bad minds ; I mean not only corrupt minds, 
but crafty minds, that intend not performance. Some em- 
brace suits, which never mean to deal effectually in them; 
but if they see there may be life in the matter by some other 
mean, they will be content to win a thank, or take a second 
reward, or at least to make use in the meantime of the suit- 
or's hope. Some take hold of suits only for an occasion to 
cross some other; or to make^ an information whereof they 
could not otherwise have apt pretext; without care what 
become of the suit when that turn is served; or, generally, 
to make other men's business a kind of entertainment to 
bring in their own. Nay, some undertake suits, with a full 
purpose to let them fall; to the end to gratify the adverse 
party or competitor. Surely there is in some sort a right in 
every suit ; either a right in equity, if it be a suit of contro- 

iGet. 



OF SUITORS 127 

versy;^ or a right of desert, if it be a suit of petition.' If 
affection lead a man to favor the wrong side in justice, let 
him rather use his countenance to compound* the matter than 
to carry it.^ If affection lead a man to favor the less worthy 
in desert, let him do it without depraving or disabling" the 
better deserver. In suits which a man doth not well under- 
stand, it is good to refer them to some friend of trust and 
judgment, that may report whether he may deal in them with 
honor: but let him choose well his referendaries, for else he 
may be led by the nose. Suitors are so distasted with delays 
and abuses,'^ that plain dealing in denying to deal in suits at 
first, and reporting the success^ barely, and in challenging 
no more thanks than one hath deserved, is grown not only 
honorable but also gracious. In suits of favor, the first com- 
ing ought to take little place : so far forth consideration may 
be had of his trust, that if intelligence of the matter could 
not otherwise have been had but by him, advantage be not 
taken of the note, but the party left to his other means ; and 
in some sort recompensed for his discovery. To be ignorant 
of the value of a suit is simplicity ; as well as to be ignorant of 
the right thereof is want of conscience. Secrecy in suits is 
a great mean of obtaining; for voicing them to be in for- 
wardness may discourage some kind of suitors, but doth 
quicken and awake others. But timing of the suit is the 
principal. Timing, I say, not only in respect of the person 
that should grant it, but in respect of those which are like 
to cross it. Let a man, in the choice of his mean, rather 
choose the fittest mean than the greatest mean; and rather 
them that deal in certain things, than those that are general. 
The reparation of a denial is sometimes equal to the first 
grant; if a man show himself neither dejected nor discon- 
tented. Iniquum petas ut cequum feras [Ask more than is 
reasonable, that you may get no less] is a good rule, where a 
man hath strength of favor : but otherwise a man were better 
rise in his suit; for he that would have ventured at first to 
have lost the suitor will not in the conclusion lose both the 
suitor and his own former favor. Nothing is thought so 
easy a request to a great person, as his letter; and yet, if it 

8 taw-suit. ^ For some favor or office. * Compromise. ^ Get an unjust 
decision. « Decrying or disparaging. '^ Deceits. ^ Outcome. 



128 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

be not in a good cause, it is so much out of his reputation. 
There are no worse instruments than these general contrivers 
of suits; for they are but a kind of poison and infection to 
public proceedings. 



L 

OF STUDIES 

Studies serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability. 
Their chief use for delight is in privateness and retiring; 
for ornament, is in discourse; and for ability, is in the judg- 
ment and disposition of business. For expert men can exe- 
cute, and perhaps judge of particulars, one by one; but the 
general counsels, and the plots and marshalling of affairs, 
come best from those that are learned. To spend too much 
time in studies is sloth ; to use them too much for ornament, 
is affectation; to make judgment wholly by their rules, is the 
humor of a scholar. They perfect nature, and are perfected 
by experience: for natural abilities are like natural plants, 
that need proyning,^ by study; and studies themselves do 
give forth directions too much at large, except they be 
bounded in by experience. Crafty men contemn studies, sim- 
ple men admire them, and wise men use them ; for they teach 
not their own use ; but that is a wisdom without them, and 
above them, won by observation. Read not to contradict 
and confute; nor to believe and take for granted; nor to 
find talk and discourse ; but to weigh and consider. Some 
books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few 
to be chewed and digested ; that is, some books are to be read 
only in parts ; others to be read, but not curiously ; and some 
few to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention. 
Some books also may be read by deputy, and extracts made of 
them by others ; but that would be only in the less important 
arguments, and the meaner sort of books, else distilled books 
are Hke common distilled waters, flashj^ things. Reading 
maketh a full man; conference a ready man; and writing 
an exact man. And therefore, if a man write little, he had 
need have a great memory; if he confer little, he had need 

1 Pruning, cultivating. ^ insipid. 



OF FACTION 129 

have a present wit: and if he read little, he had need have 
much cunning, to seem to know that he doth not. Histories 
make men wise; poets witty; the mathematics subtile; nat- 
ural philosophy deep; moral grave; logic and rhetoric able 
to contend. Abeunt studia in mores [Studies pass into and 
influence manners]. Nay, there is no stond or impediment 
in the wit but may be wrought out by fit studies ; like as dis- 
eases of the body may have appropriate exercises. Bowling 
is good for the stone and reins f shooting for the lungs and 
breast ; gentle walking for the stomach ; riding for the head ; 
and the like. So if a man's wit be wandering, let him study 
the mathematics; for in demonstrations, if his wit be called 
away never so little, he must begin again. If his wit be not 
apt to distinguish or find differences, let him study the 
Schoolmen; for they are cymini sectores [splitters of hairs]. 
If he be not apt to beat over matters, and to call up one 
thing to prove and illustrate another, let him study the law- 
yers' cases. So every defect of the mind may have a special 
receipt. 



LI 

OF FACTION 

Many have an opinion not wise, that for a prince to gov- 
ern his estate, or for a great person to govern his proceed- 
ings, according to the respect of factions, is a principal part 
of policy; whereas contrariwise, the chiefest wisdom is either 
in ordering those things which are general, and wherein 
men of several factions do nevertheless agree; or in dealing 
with correspondence to particular persons, one by one. But 
I say not that the considerations of factions is to be neg- 
lected. Mean men, in their rising, must adhere; but great 
men, that have strength in themselves, were better to main- 
tain themselves indifferent and neutral. Yet even in be- 
ginners, to adhere so moderately, as he be a man of the one 
faction which is most passable with the other, commonly 
giveth best way. The lower and weaker faction is the firmer 
in conjunction; and it is often seen that a few that are stiff 

3 Kidneys. 



130 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

do tire out a greater number that are more moderate. When 
one of the factions is extinguished, the remaining subdi- 
videth; as the faction between Lucullus and the rest of the 
nobles of the senate (which they called 0/?^ima^^^ [Aristo- 
crats]) held out awhile against the faction of Pompey and 
Caesar; but when the senate's authority was pulled down, 
Caesar and Pompey soon after brake. The faction or party 
of Antonius and Octavianus Csesar against Brutus and 
Cassius held out likewise for a time; but when Brutus and 
Cassius were overthrown, then soon after Antonius and 
Octavianus brake and subdivided. These examples are of 
wars, but the same holdeth in private factions. And there- 
fore those that are seconds in factions do many times, when 
the faction subdivideth, prove principals; but many times 
also they prove ciphers and cashiered; for many a man's 
strength is in opposition; and when that faileth he groweth 
out of use. It is commonly seen that men once placed take 
in with the contrary faction to that by which they enter: 
thinking behke that they have the first sure, and now are 
ready for a new purchase. The traitor in faction lightly 
goeth away with it;^ for when matters have stuck long in 
balancing, the winning of some one man casteth them, and 
he getteth all the thanks. The even carriage between two 
factions proeedeth not always of moderation, but of a true- 
ness to a man's self, with end to make use of both. Cer- 
tainly in Italy they hold it a little suspect in popes, when 
they have often in their mouth Padre commune [common 
father] : and take it to be a sign of one that meaneth to refer 
all to the greatness of his own house. Kings had need be- 
ware how they side themselves, and make themselves as of a 
faction or party; for leagues within the state are ever per- 
nicious to monarchies: for they raise an obligation para- 
mount to obligation of sovereignty, and make the king 
tanquam unus ex nobis [like one of ourselves] ; as was to be 
seen in the League of France. When factions are carried 
too high and too violently, it is a sign of weakness in 
princes; and much to the prejudice both of their authority 
and business. The motions of factions under kings ought to 
be Hke the motions (as the astronomers speak) of the in- 

1 Gets an advantage. 



OF CEREMONIES AND RESPECTS 131 

ferior orbs, which may have their proper motions, but yet 
still are quietly carried by the higher motion of primum 
mobile.^ 



LII 

OF CEREMONIES AND RESPECTS 

He that is only real had need have exceeding great parts 
of virtue; as the stone had need to be rich that is set with- 
out foil/ But if a man mark it well, it is in praise and 
commendation of men as it is in gettings and gains : for the 
proverb is true, That light gains make heavy purses; for 
light gains come thick, whereas great come but now and 
then. So it is true that small matters win great commenda- 
tion, because they are continually in use and in note : whereas 
the occasion of any great virtue cometh but on festivals. 
Therefore it doth much add to a man's reputation, and is 
(as Queen Isabella said) like perpetual letters commendatory, 
to have good forms. To attain them it almost sufificeth not to 
despise them ; for so shall a man observe them in others ; and 
let him trust himself with the rest. For if he labor too much 
to express them, he shall lose their grace; which is to be 
natural and unaffected. Some men's behavior is like a verse, 
wherein every syllable is measured; how can a man compre- 
hend great matters, that breaketh his mind too much to 
small observations ? Not to use ceremonies at all is to teach 
others not to use them again; and so diminisheth respect to 
himself; especially they be not to be omitted to strangers 
and formal natures; but the dwelling upon them, and exalt- 
ing them above the moon, is not only tedious but doth di- 
minish the faith and credit of him that speaks. And certainly 
there is a kind of conveying of effectual and imprinting^ 
passages amongst compliments, which is of singular use, if a 
man can hit upon it. Amongst a man's peers a man shall be 
sure of familiarity; and therefore it is good a little to keep 
state. Amongst a man's inferiors one shall be sure of rever- 
ence ; and therefore it is good a little to be familiar. He that 

2 See Essay xv. n. 3. 

^ Gold or silver leaf behind a precious stone to add luster. 



132 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

is too much in anything, so that he giveth another occasion 
of satiety, maketh himself cheap. To apply one's self to 
others is good ; so it be with demonstration that a man doth 
it upon regard, and not upon facility. It is a good precept 
generally in seconding another, yet to add somewhat of one's 
own: as if you will grant his opinion, let it be with some 
distinction; if you will follow his motion, let it be with con- 
dition ; if you allow his counsel, let it be with alleging further 
reason. Men had need beware how they be too perfect in 
compHments; for be they never so sufficient otherwise, their 
enviers will be sure to give them that attribute, to the dis- 
advantage of their greater virtues. It is loss also in business 
to be too full of respects, or to be curious in observing times 
and opportunities. Solomon saith, He that considereth the 
wind shall not sow, and he that looketh to the clouds shall 
not reap. A wise man will make more opportunities than he 
finds. Men's behavior should be like their apparel, not too 
strait or point device,^ but free for exercise or motion. 



LIII 

OF PRAISE 

Praise is the reflection of virtue; but it is as the glass 
or body which giveth the reflection. If it be from the com- 
mon people, it is commonly false and naught; and rather 
followeth vain persons than virtuous. For the common 
people understand not many excellent virtues. The lowest 
virtues draw praise from them; the middle virtues work 
in them astonishment or admiration; but of the highest 
virtues they have no sense of perceiving at all. But shows, 
and species virtutihiis similes [qualities resembling virtues], 
serve best with them. Certainly fame is like a river, that 
beareth up things light and swoln, and drowns things 
weighty and solid. But if persons of quality and judgment 
concur,^ then it is (as the Scripture saith) nomen bonum 
instar unguenti fragrantis [a good name like unto a sweet 
ointment]. It filleth all round about, and will not easily 
away. For the odors of ointments are more durable than 

2 Impressive. ^ Excessively precise. ^ Agree (in praising). 



OF PRAISE 133 

those of flowers. There be so many false points of praise, 
that a man may justly hold it a suspect. Some praises pro- 
ceed merely of flattery; and if he be an ordinary flatterer, 
he will have certain common attributes, which may serve 
every man; if he be a cunning flatterer, he will follow the 
arch-flatterer, which is a man's self; and wherein a man 
thinketh best of himself, therein the flatterer will uphold 
him most: but if he be an impudent flatterer, look wherein 
a man is conscious to himself that he is most defective, and 
is most out of countenance in himself, that will the flat- 
terer entitle him to perforce, spreta conscientia [in disdain 
of conscience]. Some praises come of good wishes and 
respects, which is a form due in civility to kings and great 
persons, laudando prcecipere [to teach in praising], when 
by telling men what they are, they represent to them what 
they should be. Some men are praised maliciously to their 
hurt, thereby to stir envy and jealousy towards them: pes- 
simum genus inimicoruni laudantium [the worst kind of 
enemies are they that praise] ; insomuch as it was a proverb 
amongst the Grecians, that he tJmf was praised to his hurt 
should have a push^ rise upon his nose; as we say, that a 
blister will rise upon one's tongue that tells a lie. Certainly 
moderate praise, used with opportunity, and not vulgar, is 
that which doth the good. Solomon saith. He that praiseth 
his friend aloud, rising early, it shall be to him no better 
than a curse. Too much magnifying of man or matter doth 
irritate contradiction, and procure envy and scorn. To praise 
a man's self cannot be decent, except it be in rare cases; 
but to praise a man's office or profession, he may do it with 
good grace, and with a kind of magnanimity. The cardinals 
of Rome, which are theologues, and friars, and Schoolmen, 
have a phrase of notable contempt and scorn towards civil 
business : for they call all temporal business of wars, embas- 
sages, judicature, and other employments, sbirrerie, which 
is under-sheriifries; as if they were but matters for under- 
sheriffs and catchpoles: though many times those under- 
sheriffries do more good than their high speculations. St. 
Paul, when he boasts of himself, he doth oft interlace, / 
speak like a fool; but speaking of his calling, he saith, 
magniHcabo apostolatum meum [I will magnify my mission]. 

Hcm '^'"■''"- 9 



134 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

LIV 

OF VAIN -GLORY 

It was prettily devised of ^sop, The Uy sat upon the 
axle-tree of the chariot wheel, and said. What a dust do I 
raise! So are there some vain persons, that whatsoever 
goeth alone or moveth upon greater means, if they have 
never so little hand in it, they think it is they that carry 
it. They that are glorious must needs be factious; for all 
bravery stands upon comparisons. They must needs be 
violent, to make good their own vaunts. Neither can they 
be secret, and therefore not effectual; but according to the 
French proverb, Beaucoup de bruit, peu de fruit; Much bruit, 
little fruit. Yet certainly there is use of this quality in civil 
affairs. Where there is an opinion and fame to be created 
either of virtue or greatness, these men are good trumpeters. 
Again, as Titus Livius noteth in the case of Antiochus and 
the ^tolians, There are sometimes great effects of cross 
lies; as if a man that negotiates between two princes, to 
draw them to join in a war against the third, doth extol the 
forces of either of them above measure, the one to the other : 
and sometimes he that deals between man and man raiseth 
his own credit with both^ by pretending greater interest than 
he hath in either. And in these and the like kinds, it often 
falls out that somewhat is produced of nothing; for lies are 
sufficient to breed opinion, and opinion brings on substance. 
In militar commanders and soldiers, vain-glory is an es- 
sential point; for as iron sharpens iron, so by glory* one 
courage sharpeneth another. In cases of great enterprise 
upon charge and adventure,^ a composition of glorious na- 
tures doth put life into business; and those that are of solid 
and sober natures have more of the ballast than of the sail. 
In fame of learning, the flight will be slow without some 
feathers of ostentation. Qui de contemnenda gloria libros 
scribunt, nomen, suum inscribunt [They that write books on 
the worthlessness of glory, take care to put their names on 
the title page]. Socrates, Aristotle, Galen, were men full 
of ostentation. Certainly vain-glory helpeth to perpetuate 

^ Boasting. 2 Qq^^ ^nd risk. 



OF HONOR AND REPUTATION 135 

a man's memory; and virtue was never so beholding to 
human nature, as it received his due at the second hand. 
Neither had the fame of Cicero, Seneca, Plinius Secundus, 
borne her age so well, if it had not been joined with some 
vanity in themselves; like unto varnish, that makes ceilings 
not only shine but last. But all this while, when I speak 
of vain-glory, I mean not of that property that Tacitus doth 
attribute to Mucianus; Omnium qucs dixerat feceratque arte 
quadam ostentator [A man that had a kind of art of setting 
forth to advantage all that he had said or done] : for that 
proceeds not of vanity, but of natural magnanimity and 
discretion; and in some persons is not only comely, but 
gracious. For excusations, cessions, modesty itself well 
governed, are but arts of ostentation. And amongst those 
arts there is none better than that which Plinius Secundus 
speaketh of, which is to be liberal of praise and commendation 
to others, in that wherein a man's self hath any perfection. 
For saith Pliny very wittily, In commending another you 
do yourself right; for he that you commend is either superior 
to you in that you commend, or inferior. If he he inferior, 
if he he to he commended, you much more; if he he superior, 
if he he not to he commended, you much less. Glorious men 
are the scorn of wise men, the admiration of fools, the idols 
of parasites, and the slaves of their own vaunts. 



LV 

OF HONOR AND REPUTATION 

The winning of honor is but the revealing of a man's 
virtue and worth without disadvantage. For some in their 
actions do woo and effect honor and reputation; which 
sort of men are commonly much talked of, but inwardly little 
admired. And some, contrariwise, darken their virtue in the 
show of it; so as they be undervalued in opinion. If a 
man perform that which hath not been attempted before; or 
attempted and given over; or hath been achieved, but not 
with so good circumstance; he shall purchase more honor, 
than by effecting a matter of greater difficulty or virtue. 



136 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

wherein he is but a follower. If a man so temper his actions, 
as in some one of them he doth content every faction or 
combination of people, the music will be the fuller. A man 
is an ill husband^ of his honor, that entereth into any action, 
the failing wherein may disgrace him more than the carrying 
of it through can honor him. Honor that is gained and 
broken^ upon another hath the quickest reflection, like 
diamonds cut with facets. And therefore let a man con- 
tend to excel any competitors of his in honor, in outshooting 
them, if he can^ in their own bow. Discreet followers 
and servants help much to reputation. Omnis fama a domes- 
ticis emanat [All fame proceeds from servants]. Envy, 
which is the canker of honor, is best extinguished by declar- 
ing a man's self in his ends rather to seek merit than fame; 
and by attributing a man's successes rather to divine Provi- 
dence and felicity, than to his own virtue or policy. The 
true marshalling of the degrees of sovereign honor are 
these: In the first place are conditores imperiorum, founders 
of states and commonwealths ; such as were Romulus, Cyrus, 
Caesar, Ottoman, Ismael. In the second place are legis- 
lator es, lawgivers; which are also called second founders, 
or perpetui principes [perpetual rulers], because they govern 
by their ordinances after they are gone; such were Lycur- 
gus, Solon, Justinian, Eadgar, Alphonsus of Castile,, the 
Wise, that made the Siete Partidas^ [Seven Parts]. In the 
third place are Uheratores, or salvatores [saviors], such as 
compound the long miseries of civil wars, or deliver their 
countries from servitude of strangers or tyrants ; as Augustus 
Csesar, Vespasianus, Aurelianus, Theodoricus, King Henry 
the Seventh of England, King Henry the Fourth of France. 
In the fourth place are propagatores or propugnatores im- 
perii [champions of the empire] ; such as in honorable wars 
enlarge their territories, or make noble defence against 
invaders. And in the last place are patres patrice [fathers of 
their country] ; which reign justly, and make the times good 
wherein they live. Both which last kinds need no examples, 
they are in such number. Degrees of honor in subjects are, 
first participes cur arum [participants in cares], those upon 
whom princes do discharge the greatest weight of their 

1 Manager. - Made to shine by competition. ^ The Spanish code of laws. 



OF JUDICATURE 137 

affairs; their right hands, as we call them. The next are 
duces belli, great leaders [in war] ; such as are princes' 
lieutenants, and do them notable services in the wars. The 
third are gratiosi, favorites; such as exceed not this scant- 
ling,* to be solace to the sovereign, and harmless to the people. 
And the fourth, negotiis pares [equals in business] ; such as 
have great places under princes, and execute their places 
with sufficiency. There is an honor, likewise, which may 
be ranked amongst the greatest which happeneth rarely; 
that is, of such as sacrifice themselves to death or danger 
for the good of their country; as was M. Regulus, and the 
two Decii. 



LVI 

OF JUDICATURE 

Judges ought to remember that their office is jus dicere, and 
not jus dare; to interpret law, and not to make law, or give law. 
Else will it be like the authority claimed by the Church of 
Rome, which under pretext of exposition of Scripture doth not 
stick to add and alter; and to pronounce that which they do 
not find; and by show of antiquity to introduce novelty. 
Judges ought to be more learned than witty, more reverend 
than plausible, and more advised than confident. Above 
all things, integrity is their portion and proper virtue. 
Cursed (saith the law) is he that removeth the landmark. 
The mislayer of a mere-stone^ is to blame. But it is the 
unjust judge that is the capital remover of landmarks, when 
he defineth amiss of lands and property. One foul sentence 
doth more hurt than many foul examples. For these do 
but corrupt the stream, the other corrupteth the fountain. 
So saith Solomon, Fons turbatus, et vena corrupt a, est 
Justus cadens in causa sua coram adversaria [A righteous 
man falling down before the wicked is as a troubled fountain 
or a corrupt spring]. The office of judges may have refer- 
ence unto the parties that sue, unto the advocates that plead, 
unto the clerks and ministers of justice underneath them, 
and to the sovereign or state above them. 
* Measure. i Boundary stone. 



138 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

First, for the causes or parties that sue. There he (saith 
the Scripture) that turn judgment into wormwood; and 
surely there be also that turn it into vinegar; for injustice 
maketh it bitter, and delays make it sour. The principal 
duty of a judge is to suppress force and fraud; whereof 
force is the more pernicious when it is open, and fraud when 
it is close and disguised. Add thereto contentious suits, 
which ought to be spewed out, as the surfeit of courts. A 
judge ought to prepare his way to a just sentence, as God 
useth to prepare his way, by raising valleys and taking down 
hills: so when there appeareth on either side an high hand, 
violent prosecution, cunning advantages taken, combination, 
power, great counsel, then is the virtue of a judge seen, to 
make inequality equal; that he may plant his judgment as 
upon an even ground. Qui fortiter emungif, elicit sanguinem 
[Violent wringing makes the nose bleed] ; and where the 
wine-press is hard wrought, it yields a harsh wine, that tastes 
of the grape-stone. Judges must beware of hard construc- 
tions and strained inferences; for there is no worse torture 
than the torture of laws. Specially in case of laws penal, 
they ought to have care that that which was meant for 
terror be not turned into rigor ; and that they bring not upon 
the people that shower whereof the Scripture speaketh, 
Pluet super eos laqueos [He will rain snares upon them] ; 
for penal laws pressed are a shower of snares upon the 
people. Therefore let penal laws, if they have been sleepers 
of long, or if they be grown unfit for the present time, be 
by wise judges confined in the execution: Judicis oificium est, 
ut res, ita tempora rerum-j etc. [A judge must have regard 
to the time as well as to the matter]. In causes of life and 
death, judges ought (as far as the law permitteth) in justice 
to remember mercy; and to cast a severe eye upon the 
example, but a merciful eye upon the person. 

Secondly, for the advocates and counsel that plead. Pa- 
tience and gravity of hearing is an essential part of justice ; 
and an overspeaking judge is no well-tuned cymbal. It is 
no grace to a judge first to find that which he might have 
heard in due time from the bar; or to show quickness of 
conceit in cutting off evidence or counsel too short; or to 
prevent information by questions, though pertinent. The 



OF JUDICATURE 139 

parts of a judge in hearing are four: to direct the evidence; 
to moderate length, repetition, or impertinency of speech; to 
recapitulate, select, and collate the material points of that 
which hath been said; and to give the rule or sentence. 
Whatsoever is above these is too much; and proceedeth 
either of glory and willingness to speak, or of impatience 
to hear, or of shortness of memory, or of want of a staid 
and equal attention. It is a strange thing to see that the 
boldness of advocates should prevail with judges; whereas 
they should imitate God, in whose seat they sit; who re- 
presseth the presumptuous, and giveth grace to the modest. 
But it is more strange, that judges should have noted favo- 
rites; which cannot but cause multiplication of fees, and 
suspicion of by-ways. There is due from the judge to the 
advocate some commendation and gracing, where causes are 
well handled and fair pleaded; especially towards the side 
which obtaineth not ; for that upholds in the client the repu- 
tation of his counsel, and beats down in him the conceit of 
his cause. There is likewise due to the public a civil repre- 
hension of advocates, where there appeareth cunning counsel, 
gross neglect, slight information, indiscreet pressing, or an 
over-bold defence. And let not the counsel at the bar chop^ 
with the judge, nor wind himself into the handling of the 
cause anew after the judge hath declared his sentence; but, 
on the other side, let not the judge meet the cause half way, 
nor give occasion for the party to say his counsel or proofs 
were not heard. 

Thirdly, for that that concerns clerks and ministers. The 
place of justice is an hallowed place; and therefore not 
only the bench, but the foot-pace^ and precincts and purprise* 
thereof, ought to be preserved without scandal and corrup- 
tion. For certainly grapes (as the Scripture saith) will not 
he gathered of thorns or thistles; neither can justice yield 
her fruit with sweetness amongst the briars and brambles 
of catching and polling^ clerks and ministers. The attend- 
ance of courts is subject to four bad instruments. First, 
certain persons that are sowers of suits; which make the 
court swell, and the country pine. The second sort is of 
those that engage courts in quarrels of jurisdiction, and are 
2 Bandy words, ^ Lobby. * Enclosure. ^ Extorting fees. 



140 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

not truly amici curies, but parasiti curies [not friends but 
parasites of the court], in puffing a court up beyond her 
bounds, for their own scraps and advantage. The third sort 
is of those that may be accounted the left hands of courts ; 
persons that are full of nimble and sinister tricks and shifts, 
whereby they pervert the plain and direct courses of courts, 
and bring justice into oblique lines and labyrinths. And the 
fourth is the poller and exacter of fees; which justifies the 
common resemblance of the courts of justice to the bush 
whereunto while the sheep flies for defence in weather, he 
is sure to lose part of his fleece. On the other side, an 
ancient clerk, skilful in precedents, wary in proceeding, and 
understanding in the business of the court, is an excellent 
finger of a court ; and doth many times point the way to the 
judge himself. 

Fourthly, for that which may concern the sovereign and 
estate. Judges ought above all to remember the conclusion 
of the Roman Twelve Tables ; Salus populi suprema lex [The 
supreme law of all is the weal of the people] ; and to know 
that laws, except they be in order to that end, are but things 
captious, and oracles not well inspired. Therefore it is an 
happy thing in a state when kings and states do often con- 
sult with judges; and again when judges do often consult 
with the king and state: the one, when there is matter of 
law intervenient in business of state; the other, when there 
is some consideration of state intervenient in matter of law. 
For many times the things deduced® to judgment may be 
meum and tuum [mine and thine], when the reason*^ and 
consequence thereof may trench to^ point of estate: I call 
matter of estate, not only the parts of sovereignty, but what- 
soever introduceth any great alteration or dangerous prece- 
dent; or concerneth manifestly any great portion of people. 
And let no man weakly conceive that just laws and true 
policy have any antipathy; for they are like the spirits and 
sinews, that one moves with the other. Let judges also re- 
member, that Solomon's throne was supported by lions on 
both sides : let them be lions, but yet lions under the throne ; 
being circumspect that they do not check or oppose any 
points of sovereignty. Let not judges also be ignorant of 

* Brought into court. ' Principle. ^ Touch. 



OF ANGER 141 

their own right, as to think there is not left to them, as a 
principal part of their office, a wise use and application of 
laws. For they may remember what the apostle saith of a 
greater law than theirs ; Nos scimus quia lex bona est, modo 
quis ea utatur legitime [We know that the law is good, if a 
man use it lawfully]. 



LVII 

OF ANGER 

To SEEK to extinguish anger utterly is but a bravery^ of 
the Stoics. We have better oracles: Be angry, but sin not. 
Let not the sun go down upon your anger. Anger must be 
limited and confined both in race and in time. We will first 
speak how the natural inclination and habit to be angry may 
be attempered and calmed. Secondly, how the particular 
motions of anger may be repressed, or at least refrained from 
doing mischief. Thirdly, how to raise anger or appease 
anger in another. 

For the first; there is no other way but to meditate and 
ruminate well upon the effects of anger, how it troubles 
man's life. And the best time to do this is to look back 
upon anger when the fit is thoroughly over. Seneca saith 
well, That anger is like ruin, which breaks itself upon that 
it falls. The Scripture exhorteth us to possess our souls in 
patience. Whosoever is out of patience, is out of possession 
of his soul. Men must not turn bees ; 

. . . animasqtie in vulnere ponunt 

[that put their lives in the sting]. 

Anger is certainly a kind of baseness; as it appears well 
in the weakness of those subjects in whom it reigns; chil- 
dren, women, old folks, sick folks. Only men must beware 
that they carry their anger rather with scorn than with 
fear; so that they may seem rather to be above the injury 
than below it; which is a thing easily done, if a man will 
give law to himself in it. 

For the second point ; the causes and motives of anger are 

1 Boast. 



142 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

chiefly three. First, to be too sensible of hurt; for no man 
is angry that feels not himself hurt ; and therefore tender and 
delicate persons must needs be oft angry ; they have so many 
things to trouble them, which more robust natures have little 
sense of. The next is, the apprehension and construction of 
the injury offered to be, in the circumstances thereof, full 
of contempt : for contempt is that which putteth an edge upon 
anger, as much or more than the hurt itself. And there- 
fore when men are ingenious in picking out circumstances 
of contempt, they do kindle their anger much. Lastly, 
opinion of the touch of a man's reputation doth multiply and 
sharpen anger. Wherein the remedy is, that a man should 
have, as Consalvo was wont to say, telam honoris crassiorem 
[an honor of a stouter web]. But in all refrainings of anger, 
it is the best remedy to win time ; and to make a man's self 
believe, that the opportunity of his revenge is not yet come, 
but that he foresees a time for it; and so to still himself in 
the meantime, and reserve it. 

To contain anger from mischief, though it take hold of a 
man, there be two things whereof you must have special cau- 
tion. The one, of extreme bitterness of words, especially if 
they be aculeate^ and proper f for cummunia maledicta [com- 
mon revilings] are nothing so much ; and again, that in anger 
a man reveal no secrets; for that makes him not fit for 
society. The other, that you do not peremptorily break off, 
in any business, in a fit of anger; but howsoever you show 
bitterness, do not act anything that is not revocable. 

For raising and appeasing anger in another; it is done 
chiefly by choosing of times, when men are frowardest and 
worst disposed, to incense them. Again, by gathering (as 
was touched before) all that you can find out to aggravate 
the contempt. And the two remedies are by the contraries. 
The former to take good times, when first to relate to a man 
an angry business ; for the first impression is much ; and the 
other is, to sever, as much as may be, the construction of 
the injury from the point of contempt; imputing it to mis- 
understanding, fear, passion, or what you will. 

2 Stinging. ^ Personal. 



OF VICISSITUDE OF THINGS 143 

LVIII 

OF VICISSITUDE OF THINGS 

Solomon saith, There is no new thing upon the earth. So 
that as Plato had an imagination. That all knowledge was 
but remembrance; so Solomon giveth his sentence, That all 
novelty is but oblivion. Whereby you may see that the river 
of Lethe runneth as well above ground as below. There is 
an abstruse astrologer that saith, // it were not for two 
things that are constant {the one is, that the fixed stars ever 
stand a like distance one from another, and never come nearer, 
together, nor go further asunder; the other, that the diu/rnal 
motion perpetually keepeth time), no individual would last 
one moment. Certain it is; that the matter is in a perpetual 
flux, and never at a stay. The great winding-sheets, that 
bury all things in oblivion, are two ; deluges and earthquakes. 
As for conflagrations and great droughts, they do not merely 
dispeople and destroy. Phaeton's car went but a day. And 
the three years' drought in the time of Elias was but par- 
ticular, and left people alive. As for the great burnings by 
lightnings, which are often in the West Indies, they are but 
narrow. But in the other two destructions, by deluge and 
earthquake, it is further to be noted, that the remnant of 
people which hap to be reserved, are commonly ignorant and 
mountainous people, that can give no account of the time 
past ; so that the oblivion is all one as if none had been left. 
If you consider well of the people of the West Indies, it is 
very probable that they are a newer or a younger people 
than the people of the Old World. And it is much more 
likely that the destruction that hath heretofore been there 
was not by earthquakes (as the Egyptian priest told Solon 
concerning the island of Atlantis, that it was swallowed by 
an earthquake), but rather that it was desolated by a par- 
ticular deluge. For earthquakes are seldom in those parts. 
But on the other side, they have such pouring rivers, as the 
rivers of Asia and Africk and Europe are but brooks to them. 
Their Andes, likewise, or mountains, are far higher than 
those with us ; whereby it seems that the remnants of genera- 
tion of men were in such a particular deluge saved. As for 



144 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

the observation that Machiavel hath, that the jealousy of 
sects doth much extinguish the memory of things; traducing 
Gregory the Great, that he did what in him lay to extinguish 
all heathen antiquities ; I do not find that tho&e zeals do any 
great effects, nor last long; as it appeared in the succession 
of Sabinian,^ who did revive the former antiquities. 

The vicissitude of mutations in the superior globe^ are no 
fit matter for this present argument. It may be, Plato's great 
year,^ if the world should last so long, would have some 
effect; not in renewing the state of like individuals (for that 
is the fume of those that conceive the celestial bodies have 
more accurate influences upon these things below than in- 
deed they have), but in gross. Comets, out of question, 
have likewise power and effect over the gross and mass of 
things; but they are rather gazed upon, and waited upon in 
their journey, than wisely observed in their effects; specially 
in their respective effects; that is, what kind of comet, for 
magnitude, color, version of the beams, placing in the reign 
of heaven, or lasting, produceth what kind of effects. 

There is a toy which I have heard, and I would not have 
it given over, but waited upon a little. They say it is ob- 
served in the Low Countries (I know not in what part) that 
every five and thirty years the same kind and suit of years 
and weathers comes about again; as great frosts, great wet, 
great droughts, warm winters, summers with little heat, and 
the Hke ; and they call it the Prime. It is a thing I do the 
rather mention, because, computing backwards, I have found 
some concurrence. 

But to leave these points of nature, and to come to men. 
The greatest vicissitude of things amongst men, is the vicis- 
situde of sects and religions. For those orbs rule in men's 
minds most. The true religion is huilt upon the rock; the 
rest are tossed upon the waves of time. To speak, therefore, 
of the causes of new sects; and to give some counsel con- 
cerning them, as far as the weakness of human judgment 
can give stay to so great revolutions. 

When the religion formerly received is rent by discords; 
and when the holiness of the professors of religion is de- 

^ The Pope who succeeded Gregory the Great. - The heavens. 

3 When the great cycle of all the heavenly motions shall be completed. 



OF VICISSITUDE OF THINGS 145 

cayed and full of scandal; and withal the times be stupid, 
ignorant, and barbarous ; you may doubt* the springing up of 
a new sect; if then also there should arise any extravagant 
and strange spirit to make himself author thereof. All which 
points held when Mahomet published his law. If a new sect 
have not two properties, fear it not; for it will not spread. 
The one is the supplanting or the opposing of authority es- 
tablished ; for nothing is more popular than that. The other 
is the giving licence to pleasures and a voluptuous life. For 
as for speculative heresies (such as were in ancient times 
the Arians, and now the Arminians), though they work 
mightily upon men's wits, yet they do not produce any great 
alterations in states; except it be by the help of civil oc- 
casions. There be three manner of plantations of new sects. 
By the power of signs and miracles; by the eloquence and 
wisdom of speech and persuasion; and by the sword. For 
martyrdoms, I reckon them amongst miracles; because they 
seem to exceed the strength of human nature : and I may do 
the like of superlative and admirable holiness of life. Surely 
there is no better way to stop the rising of new sects and 
schisms than to reform abuses; to compound the smaller 
differences; to proceed mildly, and not with sanguinary 
persecutions ; and rather to take off the principal authors by 
winning and advancing them, than to enrage them by vio- 
lence and bitterness. 

The changes and vicissitude in wars are many ; but chiefly 
in three things; in the seats or stages of the war; in the 
weapons; and in the manner of the conduct. Wars, in 
ancient time, seemed more to move from east to west; for 
the Persians, Assyrians, Arabians, Tartars (which were the 
invaders) were all eastern people. It is true, the Gauls were 
western ; but we read but of two incursions of theirs : the one 
to Gallo-Grecia, the other to Rome. But east and west have 
no certain points of heaven ; and no more have the wars, 
either from east or west, any certainty of observation. But 
north and south are fixed ; and it hath seldom or never been 
seen that the far southern people have invaded the northern, 
but contrariwise. Whereby it is manifest that the northern 
tract of the world is in nature the more martial region : be 

* Fear. 



146 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

it in respect of the stars of that hemisphere ; or of the great 
continents that are upon the north, whereas the south part, 
for aught that is known, is almost all sea; or (which is 
most apparent) of the cold of the northern parts, which is 
that which, without aid of discipline, doth make the bodies 
hardest, and the courages warmest. 

Upon the breaking and shivering of a great state and em- 
pire, you may be sure to have wars. For great empires, 
while they stand, do enervate and destroy the forces of the 
natives which they have subdued, resting upon their own 
protecting forces ; and then when they fail also, all goes to 
ruin, and they become a prey. So was it in the decay of the 
Roman empire ; and likewise in the empire of Almaigne, after 
Charles the Great, every bird taking a feather ; and were not 
unlike to befall to Spain, if it should break. The great ac- 
cessions and unions of kingdoms do likewise stir up v/ars; 
for when a state grows to an over-power, it is like a great 
flood, that will be sure to overflow. As it hath been seen in 
the states of Rome, Turkey, Spain, and others. Look when 
the world hath fewest barbarous peoples, but such as com- 
monly will not marry or generate, except they know means 
to live (as it is almost everywhere at this day, except 
Tartary), there is no danger of inundations of people; but 
when there be great shoals of people, which go on to populate, 
without foreseeing means of life and sustentation, it is of 
necessity that once in an age or two they discharge a portion 
of their people upon other nations ; which the ancient north- 
ern people were wont to do by lot; casting lots what part 
should stay at home, and what should seek their fortunes. 
When a warlike state grows soft and effeminate, they may 
be sure of a war. For commonly such states are grown rich 
in the time of their degenerating; and so the prey inviteth, 
and their decay in valor encourageth a war. 

As for the weapons, it hardly falleth under rule and ob- 
servation : yet we see even they have returns and vicissitudes. 
For certain it is, that ordnance was known in the city of the 
Oxidrakes in India; and was that which the Macedonians 
called thunder and lightning, and magic. And it is well 
known that the use of ordnance hath been in China above 
two thousand years. The conditions of weapons, and their 



OF FAME 147 

improvement, are; First, the fetching afar off; for that out- 
runs the danger; as it is seen in ordnance and muskets. 
Secondly, the strength of the percussion; wherein Hkewise 
ordnance do exceed all arietations^ and ancient inventions. 
The third is, the commodious use of them ; as that they may 
serve in all weathers; that the carriage may be light and 
manageable; and the like. 

For the conduct of the war: at the first, men rested ex- 
tremely upon number : they did put the wars likewise upon 
main force and valor; pointing days for pitched fields, and 
so trying it out upon an even match : and they were more 
ignorant in ranging and arraying their battles.* After they 
grew to rest upon number rather competent than vast; they 
grew to advantages of place, cunning diversions, and the like : 
and they grew more skilful in the ordering of their battles. 

In the youth of a state, arms do flourish; in the middle 
age of a state, learning ; and then both of them together for 
a time; in the declining age of a state, mechanical arts and 
merchandize. Learning hath his infancy, when it is but be- 
ginning and almost childish; then his youth, when it is lux- 
uriant and juvenile; then his strength of years, when it is 
solid and reduced;' and lastly, his old age, when it waxeth 
dry and exhaust. But it is not good to look too long upon 
these turning wheels of vicissitude, lest we become giddy. 
As for the philology^ of them, that is but a circle of tales, 
and therefore not fit for this writing. 



LIX 



A Fragment 

The poets make Fame a monster. They describe her in 
part finely and elegantly, and in part gravely and senten- 
tiously. They say, look how many feathers she hath, so many 
eyes she hath underneath ; so many tongues ; so many voices ; 
she pricks up so many ears. 

2 Battering-rams. ^ Battalions. '' Brought within bounds. * History. 
1 Fame is used here in the two senses of reputation and rumor. 



148 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON 

This is a flourish. There follow excellent parables; as 
that she gathereth strength in going ; that she goeth upon the 
ground and yet hideth her head in the clouds; that in the 
daytime she sitteth in a watch tower and flieth most by night ; 
that she mingleth things done with things not done; and 
that she is a terror to great cities. But that which passeth 
all the rest is: They do recount that the Earth, mother of 
the giants that made war against Jupiter and were by him 
destroyed, thereupon in an anger brought forth Fame. For 
certain it is that rebels, figured by the giants, and seditious 
fames and libels are but brothers and sisters, masculine and 
feminine. But now, if a man can tame this monster, and 
bring her to feed at the hand, and govern her, and with her 
fly other ravening fowl and kill them, it is somewhat worth. 
But we are infected with the style of the poets. To speak 
now in a sad and serious manner: There is not in all the 
politics a place less handled and more worthy to be handled 
than this of fame. We will therefore speak of these points : 
What are false fames; and what are true fames; and how 
they may be best discerned; how fames may be sown and 
raised; how they may be spread and multiplied; and how 
they may be checked and laid dead. And other things con- 
cerning the nature of fame. Fame is of that force, as there 
is scarcely any great action wherein it hath not a great part ; 
especially in the war. Mucianus undid Vitellius by a fame 
that he scattered: that Vitellius had in purpose to remove 
the legions of Syria into Germany and the legions of Ger- 
many into Syria; whereupon the legions of Syria were 
infinitely inflamed. Julius Caesar took Pompey unprovided 
and laid asleep his industry and preparations by a fame that 
he cunningly gave out: Caesar's own soldiers loved him not, 
and being wearied with the wars and laden with the spoils 
of Gaul, would forsake him as soon as he came into Italy. 
Livia settled all things for the succession of her son Tiberius 
by continual giving out that her husband Augustus was upon 
recovery and amendment. And it is an usual thing with the 
pashas to conceal the death of the Great Turk from the 
janizaries^ and men of war, to save the sacking of Constan- 
tinople and other towns, as their manner is. Themistocles 

- The Sultan's bodyguard. 



OF FAME 149 

made Xerxes, king of Persia, post apace out of Grecia by giv- 
ing out that the Grecians had a purpose to break his bridge 
of ships which he had made athwart Hellespont. There be 
a thousand such like examples; and the more they are, the 
less they need to be repeated ; because a man meeteth with 
them everywhere. Therefore let all wise governors have 
as great a watch and care over fames as they have of the 
actions and designs themselves. 

[The essay was not finished.'] 



HC III lO 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 

BY 
SIR FRANCIS BACON 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 

Bacon's literary executor, Dr. Rawley, published "The New 
Atlantis'* in 1627, the year after the author's death. It seems to 
have been written about 1623, during that period of literary ac- 
tivity which followed Bacon's political fall. None of Bacon's 
writings gives in short space so vivid a picture of his tastes and 
aspirations as this fragment of the plan of an ideal common- 
wealth. The generosity and enlightenment, the dignity and splen- 
dor, the piety and public spirit, of the inhabitants of Bensalem 
represent the ideal qualities which Bacon the statesman desired 
rather than hoped to see characteristic of his own country; and 
in Solomon's House we have Bacon the scientist indulging 
without restriction his prophetic vision of the future of human 
knowledge. No reader acquainted in any degree with the proc- 
esses and results of modern scientific inquiry can fail to be 
struck by the numerous approximations made by Bacon's im- 
agination to the actual achievements of modern times. The 
plan and organization of his great college lay down the main 
lines of the modern research university; and both in pure and 
applied science he anticipates a strikingly large number of recent 
inventions and discoveries. In still another way is "The New 
Atlantis" typical of Bacon's attitude. In spite of the enthusiastic 
and broad-minded schemes he laid down for the pursuit of truth, 
Bacon always had an eye to utility. The advancement of science 
which he sought was conceived by him as a means to a practical 
end — the increase of man's control over nature, and the comfort 
and convenience of humanity. For pure metaphysics, or any 
form of abstract thinking that yielded no "fruit," he had little 
interest; and this leaning to the useful is shown in the practical 
applications of the discoveries made by the scholars of Solomon's 
House. Nor does the interest of the work stop here. It contains 
much, both in its political and in its scientific ideals, that we have 
as yet by no means achieved, but which contain valuable elements 
of suggestion and stimulus for the future. 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 



WE SAILED from Peru, (where we had continued by 
the space of one whole year,) for China and Japan, 
by the South Sea; taking with us victuals for 
twelve months; and had good winds from the east, though 
soft and weak, for five months space, and more. But then 
the wind came about, and settled in the west for many days, 
so as we could make little or no way, and were sometimes 
in purpose to turn back. But then again there arose strong 
and great winds from the south, with a point east, which 
carried us up (for all that we could do), towards the north; 
by which time our victuals failed us, though we had made 
good spare of them. So that finding ourselves, in the midst 
of the greatest wilderness of waters in the world, without 
victuals, we gave ourselves for lost men and prepared for 
death. Yet we did lift up our hearts and voices to God 
above, who showeth his wonders in the deep, beseeching him 
of his mercy, that as in the beginning he discovered the face 
of the deep, and brought forth dry land, so he would now 
discover land to us, that we might not perish. 

And it came to pass that the next day about evening, 
we saw within a kenning^ before us, towards the north, as 
it were thick clouds, which did put us in some hope of 
land; knowing how that part of the South Sea was utterly 
unknown; and might have islands, or continents, that 
hitherto were not come to light. Wherefore we bent our 
course thither, where we saw the appearance of land, all 
that night; and in the dawning of the next day, we might 
plainly discern that it was a land ; flat to our sight, and full 
of boscage;' which made it show the more dark. And after 

* Within sight. 2 Woq^s. 

153 



154 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON 

an hour and a half's saiUng, we entered into a good haven, 
being the port of a fair city ; not great indeed, but well built, 
and that gave a pleasant view from the sea: and we thinking 
every minute long, till we were on land, came close to the 
shore, and offered to land. But straightways we saw divers 
of the people, with bastons^ in their hands (as it were) for- 
bidding us to land; yet without any cries of fierceness, but 
only as warning us off, by signs that they made. Whereupon 
being not a little discomforted,* we were advising with our- 
selves, what we should do. 

During which time, there made forth to us a small boat, 
with about eight persons in it; whereof one of them had in 
his hand a tipstaff of a yellow cane, tipped at both ends with 
blue, who came aboard our ship, without any show of distrust 
at all. And when he saw one of our number, present him- 
self somewhat before the rest, he drew forth a little scroll 
of parchment (somewhat yellower than our parchment, and 
shining like the leaves of writing tables, but otherwise soft 
and flexible,) and delivered it to our foremost man. In 
which scroll were written in ancient Hebrew, and in ancient 
Greek, and in good Latin of the school,^ and in Spanish, 
these words: Land ye not, none of you; and provide to he 
gone, from this coast, within sixteen days, except you have 
further time given you. Meanwhile, if you want fresh water 
or victuals, or help for your sick, or that your ship needeth 
repairs, write down your wants, and you shall have that, 
which helongeth to mercy. This scroll was signed with a 
stamp of cherubim's wings, not spread, but hanging down- 
wards; and by them a cross. This being delivered, the 
officer returned, and left only a servant with us to receive 
our answer. 

Consulting hereupon amongst ourselves, we were much 
perplexed. The denial of landing and hasty warning us 
away troubled us much; on the other side, to find that the 
people had languages, and were so full of humanity, did 
comfort us not a little. And above all, the sign of the cross 
to that instrument was to us a great rejoicing, and as it 
were a certain presage of good. Our answer was in the 
Spanish tongue; That for our ship, it was well; for we had 

2 Staves. * Discouraged. ^ Academic, as opposed to popular. Latin. 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 155 

rather met with calms and contrary winds than any tem- 
pests. For our sick, they were many, and in very ill case; 
so that if they were not permitted to land, they ran danger 
of their lives. Our other wants we set down in particular; 
adding, That we had some little store of merchandise, which 
if it pleased them to deal for, it might supply our wants, 
without being chargeable unto them: We offered some re- 
ward in pistolets* unto the servant, and a piece of crimson 
velvet to be presented to the officer; but the servant took 
them not, nor would scarce look upon them; and so left us, 
and went back in another little boat, which was sent for him. 

About three hours after we had dispatched our answer, 
there came towards us a person (as it seemed) of place. He 
had on him a gown with wide sleeves, of a kind of water 
chamolet,' of an excellent azure colour, far more glossy than 
ours; his under apparel was green; and so was his hat, 
being in the form of a turban, daintily made, and not so 
huge as the Turkish turbans ; and the locks of his hair came 
down below the brims of it. A reverend man was he to 
behold. He came in a boat, gilt in some part of it, with 
four persons more only in that boat; and was followed by 
another boat, wherein were some twenty. When he was 
come within a flightshot^ of our ship, signs were made to 
us, that we should send forth some to meet him upon the 
water; which we presently did in our ship-boat, sending the 
principal man amongst us save one, and four of our number 
with him. 

When we were come within six yards of their boat, they 
called to us to stay, and not to approach farther; which 
we did. And thereupon the man, whom I before described, 
stood up, and with a loud voice, in Spanish, asked, " Are ye 
Christians ? " We answered, " We were ; " fearing the less, 
because of the cross we had seen in the subscription. At which 
answer the said person lifted up his right hand towards 
Heaven, and drew it softly to his mouth (which is the 
gesture they use, when they thank God;) and then said: " If 
ye will swear (all of you) by the merits of the Saviour, 
that ye are no pirates, nor have shed blood, lawfully, nor 

^ Pistoles, Spanish gold coins. '^ Camlet with a wavy surface. 

8 A flight was a light arrow. 



156 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON 

unlawfully within forty days past, you may have licence 
to come on land." We said, " We were all ready to take that 
oath." Whereupon one of those that were with him, being 
(as it seemed) a notary, made an entry of this act. Which 
done, another of the attendants of the great person which 
was with him in the same boat, after his Lord had spoken 
a little to him, said aloud : " My Lord would have you know, 
that it is not of pride, or greatness, that he cometh not aboard 
your ship; but for that in your answer you declare that you 
have many sick amongst you, he was warned by the Con- 
servator of Health of the city that he should keep a dis- 
tance." We bowed ourselves towards him, and answered, 
'* We were his humble servants ; and accounted for great 
honour, and singular humanity towards us, that which was 
already done; but hoped well, that the nature of the sickness 
of our men was not infectious." So he returned ; and a while 
after came the Notary to us aboard our ship ; holding in his 
hand a fruit of that country, like an orange, but of color 
between orange-tawney and scarlet; which cast a most ex- 
cellent odour. He used it (as it seemeth) for a preservative 
against infection. He gave us our oath ; " By the name of 
Jesus, and his merits :" and after told us, that the next day, 
by six of the Clock, in the Morning; we should be sent to, 
and brought to the Strangers' House, (so he called it,) 
where we should be accommodated of things, both for our 
whole, and for our sick. So he left us ; and when we offered 
him some pistolets, he smiling said, " He must not be twice 
paid for one labour:" meaning (as I take it) that he had 
salary sufficient of the State for his service. For (as I after 
learned) they call an officer that taketh rewards, twice paid. 
The next morning early, there came to us the same officer 
that came to us at first with his cane, and told us, " He came 
to conduct us to the Strangers' House ; and that he had pre- 
vented" the hour, because^" we might have the whole day 
before us, for our business. For," said he, "if you will 
follow my advice, there shall first go with me some few 
of you, and see the place, and how it may be made convenient 
for you ; and then you may send for your sick, and the rest 
of your number, which ye will bring on land." We thanked 

» Come before. i" In order that. 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 157 

him, and said, " That this care, which he took of desolate 
strangers, God would reward." And so six of us went on 
land with him: and when we were on land, he went before 
us, and turned to us, and said, " He was but our servant, and 
our guide." He led us through three fair streets ; and all the 
way we went, there were gathered some people on both sides, 
standing in a row ; but in so civil a fashion, as if it had 
been, not to wonder at us, but to welcome us: and divers 
of them, as we passed by them, put their arms a Httle 
abroad;" which is their gesture, when they did bid any 
welcome. 

The Strangers' House is a fair and spacious house, built 
of brick, of somewhat a bluer colour than our brick; and 
with handsome windows, some of glass, some of a kind of 
cambric oiled. He brought us first into a fair parlour above 
stairs, and then asked us, ''What number of persons we were ? 
And how many sick? " We answered, " We were in all, (sick 
and whole,) one and fifty persons, whereof our sick were 
seventeen." He desired us to have patience a little, and to 
stay till he came back to us ; which was about an hour after ; 
and then he led us to see the chambers which were provided 
for us, being in number nineteen: they having cast^ it (as 
it seemeth) that four of those chambers, which were better 
than the rest, might receive four of the principal men of 
our company; and lodge them alone by themselves; and the 
other fifteen chambers were to lodge us two and two together. 
The chambers were handsome and cheerful chambers, and 
furnished civilly." Then he led us to a long gallery, like 
a dorture," where he showed us all along the one side (for 
the other side was but wall and window), seventeen cells, 
very neat ones, having partitions of cedar wood. Which 
gallery and cells, being in all forty, (many more than we 
needed,) were instituted as an infirmary for sick persons. 
And he told us withal, that as any of our sick waxed well, 
he might be removed from his cell, to a chamber ; for which 
purpose there were set forth ten spare chambers, besides the 
number we spake of before. This done, he brought us back 
to the parlour, and lifting up his cane a little, (as they do 
when they give any charge or command) said to us, " Ye 

^ Stretched out. " planned. is Respectably. i* Dormitory. 



158 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON 

are to know, that the custom of the land requireth, that after 
this day and to-morrow, (which we give you for removing 
of your people from your ship,) you are to keep within doors 
for three days. But let it not trouble you, nor do not think 
yourselves restrained, but rather left to your rest and ease. 
You shall want nothing, and there are six of our people 
appointed to attend you, for any business you may have 
abroad." We gave him thanks, with all affection and re- 
spect, and said, " God surely is manifested in this land." We 
offered him also twenty pistolets; but he smiled, and only 
said ; " What ? twice paid ! " And so he left us. 

Soon after our dinner was served in; which was right 
good viands, both for bread and meat : better than any collegi- 
ate diet, that I have known in Europe. We had also drink 
of three sorts, all wholesome and good; wine of the grape; 
a drink of grain, such as is with us our ale, but more 
clear : And a kind of cider made of a fruit of that country ; a 
wonderful pleasing and refreshing drink. Besides, there 
were brought in to us, great store of those scarlet oranges, 
for our sick; which (they said) were an assured remedy 
for sickness taken at sea. There was given us also, a box of 
small gray, or whitish pills, which they wished our sick 
should take, one of the pills, every night before sleep ; which 
(they said) would hasten their recovery. 

The next day, after that our trouble of carriage and 
removing of our men and goods out of our ship, was some- 
what settled and quiet, I thought good to call our company 
together; and when they were assembled, said unto them; 
" My dear friends, let us know ourselves, and how it standeth 
with us. We are men cast on land, as Jonas was, out of 
the whale's belly, when we were as buried in the deep: and 
now we are on land, we are but between death and life; 
for we are beyond, both the old world, and the new; and 
whether ever we shall see Europe, God only knoweth. It 
is a kind of miracle hath brought us hither: and it must be 
little less, that shall bring us hence. Therefore in regard 
of our deliverance past, and our danger present, and to come, 
let us look up to God, and every man reform his own ways. 
Besides we are come here amongst a Christian people, full 
of piety and humanity : let us not bring that confusion of face 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 159 

upon ourselves, as to show our vices, or unworthiness before 
them. Yet there is more. For they have by commandment, 
(though in form of courtesy) cloistered us within these 
walls, for three days: who knoweth, whether it be not, 
to take some taste of our manners and conditions?^ and if 
they find them bad, to banish us straightways ; if good, to 
give us further time. For these men that they have given 
us for attendance, may withal have an eye upon us. There- 
fore for God's love, and as we love the weal of our souls 
and bodies, let us so behave ourselves, as we may be at 
peace with God, and may find grace in the eyes of this 
people." Our company with one voice thanked me for my 
good admonition, and promised me to live soberly and civilly, 
and without giving any the least occasion of offence. So 
we spent our three days joyfully, and without care, in ex- 
pectation what would be done with us, when they were 
expired. During which time, we had every hour joy of 
the amendment of our sick; who thought themselves cast 
into some divine pool of healing; they mended so kindly,^" 
and so fast. 

The morrow after our three days were past, there came 
to us a new man, that we had not seen before, clothed in 
blue as the former was, save that his turban was white, 
with a small red cross on the top. He had also a tippet of 
fine linen. At his coming in, he did bend to us a little, and 
put his arms abroad. We of our parts saluted him in a very 
lowly and submissive manner ; as looking that from him, we 
should receive sentence of life, or death : he desired to speak 
with some few of us: whereupon six of us only staid, and 
the rest avoided" the room. He said, " I am by office gover- 
nor of this House of Strangers, and by vocation I am a 
Christian priest: and therefore am come to you to offer you 
my service, both as strangers and chiefly as Christians. 
Some things I may tell you, which I think you will not be 
unwilling to hear. The State hath given you license to stay 
on land, for the space of six weeks; and let it not trouble 
you, if your occasions ask further time, for the law in this 
point is not precise ; and I do not doubt, but my self shall be 
able, to obtain for you such further time, as may be con- 

" Dispositions, " Naturally. i'' Left. 



160 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON 

venient. Ye shall also understand, that the Strangers' House 
is at this time rich, and much aforehand; for it hath laid up 
revenue these thirty-seven years; for so long it is since any 
stranger arrived in this part : and therefore take ye no care ; 
the State will defray^* you all the time you stay ; neither shall 
you stay one day the less for that. As for any merchandise 
ye have brought, ye shall be well used, and have your re- 
turn, either in merchandise, or in gold and silver: for to 
us it is all one. And if you have any other request to make, 
hide it not. For ye shall find we will not make your counte- 
nance to fall by the answer ye shall receive. Only this I 
must tell you, that none of you must go above a karan," (that 
is with them a mile and an half) " from the walls of the 
city, without especial leave." 

We answered, after we had looked awhile one upon an- 
other, admiring^® this gracious and parent-like usage ; " That 
we could not tell what to say : for we wanted words to express 
our thanks; and his noble free offers left us nothing to ask. 
It seemed to us, that we had before us a picture of our 
salvation in Heaven; for we that were a while since in the 
jaws of death, were now brought into a place, where we 
found nothing but consolations. For the commandment laid 
upon us, we would not fail to obey it, though it was impos- 
sible but our hearts should be enflamed to tread further upon 
this happy and holy ground." We added ; " That our tongues 
should first cleave to the roofs of our mouths, ere we should 
forget, either his reverend person, or this whole nation, in our 
prayers." We also most humbly besought him, to accept of us 
as his true servants, by as just a right as ever men on earth 
were bounden; laying and presenting, both our persons, and 
all we had, at his feet. He said ; " He was a priest, and looked 
for a priest's reward ; which was our brotherly love, and the 
good of our souls and bodies." So he went from us, not with- 
out tears of tenderness in his eyes; and left us also con- 
fused with joy and kindness, saying amongst ourselves ; "That 
we were come into a land of angels, which did appear to us 
daily, and prevent us with comforts, which we thought not 
of, much less expected." 

The next day about ten of the clock, the Gk>vernor came 

18 Pay expenses. ^® Wondering at. 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 161 

to us again, and after salutations, said familiarly ; " That he 
was come to visit us;" and called for a chair, and sat him 
down: and we, being some ten of us, (the rest were of the 
meaner sort, or else gone abroad,) sat down with him. 
And when we were set, he began thus : " We of this island of 
Bensalem," (for so they call it in their language,) "have this; 
that by means of our solitary situation; and of the laws of 
secrecy, which we have for our travellers, and our rare admis- 
sion of strangers; we know well most part of the habitable 
world, and are ourselves unknown. Therefore because he 
that knoweth least is fittest to ask questions, it is more 
reason, for the entertainment of the time, that ye ask me 
questions, than that I ask you." 

We answered ; "That we humbly thanked him that he would 
give us leave so to do: and that we conceived by the taste 
we had already, that there was no worldly thing on earth, 
more worthy to be known than the state of that happy land. 
But above all," (we said,) " since that we were met from the 
several ends of the world, and hoped assuredly that we 
should meet one day in the kingdom of Heaven, (for that 
we were both parts Christians,) we desired to know, (in 
respect that land was so remote, and so divided by vast and 
unknown seas, from the land where our Saviour walked on 
earth,) who was the apostle of that nation, and how it was 
converted to the faith?" It appeared in his face that he 
took great contentment in this our question: he said; "Ye 
knit my heart to you, by asking this question in the first place ; 
for it sheweth that you £rsf seek the kingdom of heaven; 
and I shall gladly, and briefly, satisfy your demand. 

"About twenty years after the ascension of our Saviour, 
it came to pass, that there was seen by the people of Renfusa. 
(a city upon the eastern coast of our island,) within night, 
(the night was cloudy, and calm,) as it might be some mile 
into the sea, a great pillar of light ; not sharp, but in form of 
a column, or cylinder, rising from the sea a great way up 
towards heaven; and on the top of it was seen a large 
cross of light, more bright and resplendent than the body 
of the pillar. Upon which so strange a spectacle, the people 
of the city gathered apace together upon the sands, to 
wonder; and so after put themselves into a number of small 



162 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON 

boats, to go nearer to this marvellous sight. But when the 
boats were come within (about) sixty yards of the pillar, 
they found themselves all bound, and could go no further- 
yet so as they might move to go about, but might not ap- 
proach nearer: so as the boats stood all as in a theatre, be- 
holding this light as an heavenly sign. It so fell out, that 
there was in one of the boats one of the wise men, of the 
society of Salomon's House; which house, or college (my 
good brethren) is the very eye of this kingdom; who having 
awhile attentively and devoutly viewed and contemplated this 
pillar and cross, fell down upon his face ; and then raised 
himself upon his knees, and lifting up his hands to heaven, 
made his prayers in this manner. 

"'LORD God of heaven and earth, thou hast vouchsafed 
of thy grace to those of our order, to know thy works of 
Creation, and the secrets of them: and to discern (as far as 
appertaineth to the generations of men) between divine 
miracles, zvorks of nature, works of art, and impostures and 
illusions of all sorts. I do here acknowledge and testify 
before this people, that the thing which we now see before 
our eyes is thy Finger and a true Miracle, And forasmuch 
as we learn in our books that thou never workest miracles, 
but to a divine and excellent end, {for the laws of nature are 
thine own laws, and thou exceedest them not but upon great 
cause,) we most humbly beseech thee to prosper this great 
sign, and to give us the interpretation and Urse of it in mercy; 
which thou dost in some part secretly promise by sending 
it unto us,' 

" When he had made his prayer, he presently found the 
boat he was in, moveable and unbound; whereas all the rest 
remained still fast ; and taking that for an assurance of leave 
to approach, he caused the boat to be softly and with silence 
rowed towards the pillar. But ere he came near it, the pillar 
and cross of light brake up, and cast itself abroad, as it 
were, into a firmament of many stars; which also vanished 
soon after, and there was nothing left to be seen, but a 
small ark, or chest of cedar, dry, and not wet at all with 
water, though it swam. And in the fore-end of it, which was 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 163 

towards him, grew a small green branch of palm; and when 
the wise man had taken it, with all reverence, into his boat, 
it opened of itself, and there were found in it a Book and 
a Letter; both written in fine parchment, and wrapped in 
sindons" of linen. The Book contained all the canonical 
books of the Old and New Testament, according as you have 
them; (for we know well what the churches with you re- 
ceive) ; and the Apocalypse itself, and some other books 
of the New Testament, v^^hich were not at that time written, 
were nevertheless in the Book. And for the Letter, it was in 
these words: 

" 7 Bartholomeiv, a servant of the Highest, and Apostle of 
Jesus Christ, was zvarned by an angel that appeareth to me, 
in a vision of glory, that I should commit this ark to the 
Hoods of the sea. Therefore I do testify and declare unto 
that people where God shall ordain this ark to come to 
land, that in the same day is come unto them salvation and 
peace and good-will, from the Father, and from the Lord 
Jesus/ 

" There was also in both these writings, as well the Book, 
as the Letter, wrought a great miracle, conform^ to that of 
the Apostles, in the original Gift of Tongues. For there being 
at that time in this land Hebrews, Persians, and Indians, 
besides the natives, every one read upon the Book, and 
Letter, as if they had been written in his own language. And 
thus was this land saved from infidelity (as the remainder 
of the old world was from water) by an ark, through the 
apostolical and miraculous evangelism of Saint Bartholomew." 
And here he paused, and a messenger came, and called him 
from us. So this was all that passed in that conference. 

The next day, the same governor came again to us, im- 
mediately after dinner, and excused himself, saying;" That 
the day before he was called from us, somewhat abruptly, but 
now he would make us amends, and spend time with us if 
we held his company and conference agreeable." We an- 
answered, " That we held it so agreeable and pleasing to us, as 
we forgot both dangers past and fears to come, for the time 

20 Pieces. 21 Similar. 



164 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON 

we hear him speak; and that we thought an hour spent 
with him, was worth years of our former life." He bowed 
himself a little to us, and after we were set again, he said; 
" Well, the questions are on your part." 

One of our number said, after a little pause; that there 
was a matter, we were no less desirous to know, than fearful 
to ask, lest we might presume too far. But encouraged by 
his rare humanity towards us, (that could scarce think our- 
selves strangers, being his vowed and professed servants,) 
we would take the hardiness to propound it: humbly be- 
seeching him, if he thought it not fit to be answered, that he 
would pardon it, though he rejected it. We said; "We well 
observed those his words, which he formerly spake, that this 
happy island, where we now stood, was known to few, and 
yet knew most of the nations of the world ; which we found 
to be true, considering they had the languages of Europe, 
and knew much of our state and business; and yet we 
in Europe, (notwithstanding all the remote discoveries and 
navigations of this last age), never heard of the least 
inkling or glimpse of this island. This we found wonderful 
strange ; for that all nations have inter-knowledge one of an- 
other, either by voyage into foreign parts, or by strangers 
that come to them: and though the traveller into a foreign 
country, doth commonly know more by the eye, than he that 
stayeth at home can by relation of the traveller; yet both 
ways suffice to make a mutual knowledge, in some degree, on 
both parts. But for this island, we never heard tell of any 
ship of theirs that had been seen to arrive upon any shore 
of Europe; nor of either the East or West Indies; nor yet 
of any ship of any other part of the world, that had made 
return from them. And yet the marvel rested not in this. 
For the situation of it (as his lordship said) in the secret 
conclave^ of such a vast sea might cause it. But then, that 
they should have knowledge of the languages, books, affairs, 
of those that lie such a distance from them, it was a thing 
we could not tell what to make of ; for that it seemed to us a 
condition^* and propriety^^ of divine powers and beings, to be 
hidden and unseen to others, and yet to have others open 
and as in a light to them." 

23 Private room. ** Property. ^^ Quality. 



i 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 165 

At this speech the Governor gave a gracious smile, and 
said ; " That we did well to ask pardon for this question we 
now asked: for that it imported, as if we thought this land, 
a land of magicians, that sent forth spirits of the air into all 
parts, to bring them news and intelligence of other countries." 
It was answered by us all, in all possible humbleness, but yet 
with a countenance taking knowledge, that we knew that he 
spake it but merrily, " That we were apt enough to think 
there was somewhat supernatural in this island; but yet 
rather as angelical than magical. But to let his lordship know 
truly what it was that made us tender and doubtful to ask this 
question, it was not any such conceit,'*' but because we re- 
membered, he had given a touch^^ in his former speech, that 
this land had laws of secrecy touching strangers." To this he 
said ; " You remember it aright and therefore in that I shall 
say to you, I must reserve some particulars, which it is not 
lawful for me to reveal; but there will be enough left, to 
give you satisfaction. 

" You shall understand (that which perhaps you will scarce 
think credible) that about three thousand years ago, or some- 
what more, the navigation of the world, (especially for remote 
voyages,) was greater than at this day. Do not think with 
yourselves, that I know not how much it is increased with 
you, within these six-score years : I know it well : and yet I 
say greater then than now; whether it was, that the ex- 
ample of the ark,, that saved the remnant of men from the 
universal deluge, gave men confidence to adventure upon the 
waters ; or what it was ; but such is the truth. The Phoeni- 
cians, and especially the Tyrians, had great fleets. So had 
the Carthaginians their colony, which is yet further west. 
Toward the east the shipping of Egypt and of Palestina was 
likewise great. China also, and the great Atlantis, (that 
you call America,) which have now but junks and canoes, 
abounded then in tall ships. This island, (as appeareth by 
faithful registers of those times,) had then fifteen hundred 
strong ships, of great content. Of all this, there is with you 
sparing memory, or none; but we have large knowledge 
thereof. 

"At that time, this land was known and frequented by the 

26 i(jea. 27 Hint. 



166 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON 

ships and vessels of all the nations before named. And (as 
it cometh to pass) they had many times men of other 
countries, that were no sailors, that came with them; as 
Persians, Chaldeans, Arabians; so as almost all nations of 
might and fame resorted hither; of whom we have some 
stirps,^ and Httle tribes with us at this day. And for our 
own ships, they went sundry voyages, as well to your straits, 
which you call the Pillars of Hercules, as to other parts in 
the Atlantic and Mediterrane Seas; as to Paguin, (which 
is the same with Cambahne,^^) and Quinzy, upon the Oriental 
Seas, as far as to the borders of the East Tartary. 

" At the same time, and an age after, or more, the inhabi- 
tants of the great Atlantis did flourish. For though the 
narration and description, which is made by a great man^° 
with you; that the descendants of Neptune planted^^ there; 
and of the magnificent temple, palace, city, and hill ; and the 
manifold streams of goodly navigable rivers, (which as so 
many chains environed the same site and temple) ; and the 
several degrees of ascent, whereby men did climb up to the 
same, as if it had been a scala coeli^^ be all poetical and 
fabulous: yet so much is true, that the said country of 
Atlantis, as well that of Peru, then called Coya, as that of 
Mexico, then named Tyrambel, were mighty and proud king- 
doms in arms, shipping and riches: so mighty, as at one 
time (or at least within the space of ten years) they both 
made two great expeditions; they of Tyrambel through the 
Atlantic to the Mediterrane Sea; and they of Coya through 
the South Sea upon this our island: and for the former of 
these, which was into Europe, the same author amongst you 
(as it seemeth) had some relation from the Egyptian priest 
whom he cited. For assuredly such a thing there was. But 
whether it were the ancient Athenians that had the glory of 
the repulse and resistance of those forces, I can say nothing : 
but certain it is, there never came back either ship or man 
from that voyage. Neither had the other voyage of those of 
Coya upon us had better fortune, if they had not met with 
enemies of greater clemency. For the king of this island, 
(by name Altabin,) a wise man and a great warrior, know- 

28 Families. 29 Cambalu. Pekin, ^o pjato, in the " Critias." 

31 Settled. 32 Ladder to heaven. 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 167 

ing well both his own strength and that of his enemies, 
handled the matter so, as he cut off their land-forces from 
their ships; and entoiled** both their navy and their camp 
with a greater power than theirs, both by sea and land : and 
compelled them to render themselves without striking stroke : 
and after they were at his mercy, contenting himself only 
with their oath that they should no more bear arms against 
him, dismissed them all in safety. 

"But the divine revenge overtook not long after those proud 
enterprises. For within less than the space of one hundred 
years, the great Atlantis was utterly lost and destroyed: not 
by a great earthquake, as your man saith; (for that whole 
tract is little subject to earthquakes;) but by a particular'** 
deluge or inundation; those countries having, at this day, 
far greater rivers and far higher mountains to pour down 
waters, than any part of the old world. But it is true that 
the same inundation was not deep; not past forty foot, in 
most places, from the ground; so that although it destroyed 
man and beast generally, yet some few wild inhabitants of 
the wood escaped. Birds also were saved by flying to the 
high trees and woods. For as for men, although they had 
buildings in many places, higher than the depth of the water, 
yet that inundation, though it were shallow, had a long con- 
tinuance; whereby they of the vale that were not drowned, 
perished for want of food and other things necessary. 

" So as marvel you not at the thin population of America, 
nor at the rudeness and ignorance of the people; for you 
must account your inhabitants of America as a young peo- 
ple ; younger a thousand years, at the least, than the rest of 
the world: for that there was so much time between the 
universal flood and their particular inundation. For the 
poor remnant of human seed, v/hich remained in their moun- 
tains, peopled the country again slowly, by little and little; 
and being simple and savage people, (not like Noah and his 
sons, which was the chief family of the earth,) they were not 
able to leave letters, arts, and civility^" to their posterity ; and 
having likewise in their mountainous habitations been used 
(in respect of the extreme cold of those regions) to clothe 
themselves with the skins of tigers, bears, and great hairy 

33 Ensnared. ** Partial. '^ Civilization. 



168 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON 

goats, that they have in those parts; when after they came 
down into the valley, and found the intolerable heats which 
are there, and knew no means of lighter apparel, they were 
forced to begin the custom of going naked, which continueth 
at this day. Only they take great pride and delight in the 
feathers of birds; and this also they took from those their 
ancestors of the mountains, who were invited unto it by the 
infinite flights of birds that came up to the high grounds, 
while the waters stood below. So you see, by this main ac- 
cident of time, we lost our traffic with the Americans, with 
whom of all others, in regard they lay nearest to us, we had 
most commerce. 

"As for the other parts of the world, it is most manifest 
that in the ages following (whether it were in respect of 
wars, or by a natural revolution of time,) navigation did 
every where greatly decay; and specially far voyages (the 
rather by the use of galleys, and such vessels as could hardly 
brook the ocean,) were altogether left and omitted. So then, 
that part of intercourse which could be from other nations 
to sail to us, you see how it hath long since ceased; except 
it were by some rare accident, as this of yours. But now of 
the cessation of that other part of intercourse, which might 
be by our sailing to other nations, I must yield you some 
other cause. For I cannot say (if I shall say truly,) but our 
shipping, for number, strength, mariners, pilots, and all 
things that appertain to navigation, is as great as ever; and 
therefore why we should sit at home, I shall now give you 
an account by itself: and it will drav/ nearer to give you 
satisfaction to your principal question. 

" There reigned in this land, about nineteen hundred years 
ago, a king, whose memory of all others we most adore ; not 
superstitiously, but as a divine instrument, though a mortal 
man; his name was Solamona: and we esteem him as the 
lawgiver of our nation. This king had a large heart, in- 
scrutable for good; and was wholly bent to make his 
kingdom and people happy. He therefore, taking into con- 
sideration how sufficient and substantive^® this land was to 
maintain itself without any aid (at all) of the foreigner; 
being five thousand six hundred miles in circuit, and of rare 

*« Self-sufficing. 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 169 

fertility of soil in the greatest part thereof ; and finding also 
the shipping of this country might be plentifully set on work, 
both by fishing and by transportations from port to port, and 
likewise by saiHng unto some small islands that are not far 
from us, and are under the crown and laws of this state; 
and recalling into his memory the happy and flourishing 
estate wherein this land then was ; so as it might be a thou- 
sand ways altered to the worse, but scarce any one way to 
the better ; thought nothing wanted to his noble and heroical 
intentions, but only (as far as human foresight might reach) 
to give perpetuity to that which was in his time so happily 
established. Therefore amongst his other fundamental laws 
of this kingdom, he did ordain the interdicts and prohibi- 
tions which we have touching entrance of strangers; which 
at that time (though it was after the calamity of America) 
was frequent; doubting^^ novelties, and commixture of man- 
ners. It is true, the like laws against the admission of stran- 
gers without licence is an ancient law in the kingdom of 
China, and yet continued in use. But there it is a poor thing ; 
and hath made them a curious, ignorant, fearful, foolish 
nation. But our lawgiver made his law of another temper. 
For first, he hath preserved all points of humanity, in taking 
order and making provision for the relief of strangers dis- 
tressed ; whereof you have tasted." 

At which speech (as reason was) we all rose up and 
bowed ourselves. He went on. 

" That king also, still desiring to join humanity and policy 
together; and thinking it against humanity, to detain stran- 
gers here against their wills, and against policy that they 
should return and discover their knowledge of this estate, 
he took this course: he did ordain that of the strangers 
that should be permitted to land, as many (at times) might 
depart as would; but as many as would stay should have 
very good conditions and means to live from the state. 
Wherein he saw so far, that now in so many ages since the 
prohibition, we have memory not of one ship that ever re- 
turned, and but of thirteen persons only, at several times, 
that chose to return in our bottoms. What those few that 
returned may have reported abroad I know not. But you 

'■^ Fearing. 



170 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON 

must think, whatsoever they have said could be taken where 
they came but for a dream. Now for our travelling from 
hence into parts abroad, our Lawgiver thought fit alto- 
gether to restrain it. So is it not in China. For the 
Chinese sail where they will or can; which sheweth that 
their law of keeping out strangers is a law of pusilla- 
nimity and fear. But this restraint of ours hath one only 
exception, which is admirable; preserving the good which 
cometh by communicating with strangers, and avoiding the 
hurt; and I will now open it to you. And here I shall 
seem a little to digress, but you will by and by find it 
pertinent. 

" Ye shall understand (my dear friends) that amongst the 
excellent acts of that king, one above all hath the pre-em.i- 
nence. It was the erection and institution of an Order or 
Society, which we call Salomon's House; the noblest founda- 
tion (as we think) that ever was upon the earth; and the 
lanthorn of this kingdom. It is dedicated to the study of the 
works and creatures of God. Some think it beareth the foun- 
der's name a little corrupted, as if it should be Solamona's 
House. But the records write it as it is spoken. So as I 
take it to be denominate of^^ the king of the Hebrews, 
which is famous with you, and no stranger to us. For we 
have some parts of his works, which with you are lost; 
namely, that natural history, which he wrote, of all plants, 
from the cedar of Libanus to the moss that groweth out of 
the wall, and of all things that have life and motion. This 
maketh me think that our king, finding himself to symbolize^^ 
in many things with that king of the Hebrews (which lived 
many years before him), honored him with the title of 
this foundation. And I am rather induced to be of this 
opinion, for that I find in ancient records this Order or So- 
ciety is sometimes called Salomon's House, and sometimes 
the College of the Six Days Works; whereby I am satisfied 
that our excellent king had learned from the Hebrews that 
God that created the world and all that therein is within 
six days : and therefore he instituting that House for the find- 
ing out of the true nature of all things, (whereby God might 
have the more glory in the workmanship of them, and men 
w Named after. ** Agree. 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 171 

the more fruit in the use of them), did give it also that 
second name. 

" But now to come to our present purpose. When the king 
had forbidden to all his people navigation into any part 
that was not under his crown, he made nevertheless this 
ordinance ; that every twelve years there should be set forth, 
out of this kingdom two ships, appointed to several voy- 
ages ; That in either of these ships there should be a mission 
of three of the Fellows or Brethren of Salomon's House; 
whose errand was only to give us knowledge of the affairs 
and state of those countries to which they were designed, 
and especially of the sciences, arts, manufactures, and in- 
ventions of all the world ; and withal to bring unto us books, 
instruments, and patterns in every kind : That the ships, after 
they had landed the brethren, should return; and that the 
brethren should stay abroad till the new mission. These 
ships are not otherwise fraught, than with store of victuals, 
and good quantity of treasure to remain with the brethren, 
for the buying of such things and rewarding of such per- 
sons as they should think fit. Now for me to tell you how 
the vulgar sort of mariners are contained*" from being dis- 
covered at land; and how they that must bCj^put on shore 
for any time, color themselves under the names of other 
nations; and to what places these voyages have been de- 
signed ; and what places of rendezvous are appointed for the 
new missions ; and the like circumstances of the practique ; I 
may not do it : neither is it much to your desire. But thus you 
see we maintain a trade not for gold, silver^ or jewels; nor 
for silks; nor for spices; nor any other commodity of mat- 
ter; but only for God's first creature, which was Light: to 
have light (I say) of the growth of*^ all parts of the world." 

And when he had said this, he was silent; and so were 
we all. For indeed we were all astonished to hear so strange 
things so probably told. And he, perceiving that we were 
willing to say somewhat but had it not ready in great 
courtesy took us off, and descended to ask us questions of 
our voyage and fortunes and in the end concluded, that we 
might do well to think with ourselves what time of stay we 
would demand of the state; and bade us not to scant our- 

*^ Prevented. *^ Produced in. 



172 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON 

selves; for he would procure such time as we desired. 
Whereupon we all rose up, and presented ourselves*^ to 
kiss the skirt of his tippet; but he would not suffer us; and 
so took his leave. But when it came once amongst our peo- 
ple that the state used to offer conditions to strangers that 
would stay, we had work enough to get any of our men to 
look to our ship; and to keep them from going presently to 
the governor to crave conditions. But with much ado we 
refrained them, till we might agree what course to take. 

We took ourselves now for free men, seeing there was 
no danger of our utter perdition; and lived most joyfully, go- 
ing abroad and seeing what was to be seen in the city and 
places adjacent within our tedder; and obtaining acquaint- 
ance with many of the city, not of the meanest quality; at 
whose hands we found such humanity, and such a free- 
dom and desire to take strangers as it were into their bosom, 
as was enough to make us forget all that was dear to us 
in our own countries: and continually we met with many 
things right worthy of observation and relation: as indeed, 
if there be a mirror in the world worthy to hold men's eyes, 
it is that country. 

One day there were two of our company bidden to a 
Feast of the Family, as they call it. A most natural, pious, 
and reverend custom it is, shewing that nation to be com- 
pounded of all goodness. This is the manner of it. It is 
granted to any man that shall live to see thirty persons 
descended of his body alive together, and all above three 
years old, to make this feast which is done at the cost of 
the state. The Father of the Family, whom they call the 
Tirsan, two days before the feast, taketh to him three of 
such friends as he liketh to choose ; and is assisted^ also by 
the governor of the city or place where the feast is cele- 
brated; and all the persons of the family, of both sexes, are 
summoned to attend him. These two days the Tirsan sitteth 
in consultation concerning the good estate of the family. 
There, if there be any discord or suits between any of the 
family, they are compounded and appeased. There, if any 
of the family be distressed or decayed, order is taken for 
their relief and competent means to live. There, if any be 

^ Offered. *3 Attended. 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 173 

subject to vice, or take ill courses, they are reproved and 
censured. So likewise direction is given touching mar- 
riages, and the courses of life, which any of them should 
take, with divers other the like orders and advices. The 
governor assisteth, to the end to put in execution by his 
public authority the decrees and orders of the Tirsan, if they 
should be disobeyed; though that seldom needeth; such 
reverence and obedience they give to the order of nature. 
The Tirsan doth also then ever choose one man from 
among his sons, to live in house with him; who is called 
ever after the Son of the Vine. The reason will here- 
after appear. 

On the feast day, the father or Tirsan cometh forth 
after divine service into a large room where the feast is 
celebrated ; which room hath an half-pace" at the upper end. 
Against the wall, in the middle of the half-pace, is a chair 
placed for him, with a table and carpet before it. Over the 
chair is a state,*^ made round or oval, and it is of ivy; an 
ivy somewhat whiter than ours, like the leaf of a silver asp,** 
but more shining; for it is green all winter. And the state 
is curiously wrought with silver and silk of divers colors, 
broiding*^ or binding in the ivy; and is ever of the work 
of some of the daughters of the family; and veiled over 
at the top with a fine net of silk and silver. But the sub- 
stance of it is true ivy; whereof, after it is taken down, 
the friends of the family are desirous to have some leaf 
or sprig to keep. 

The Tirsan cometh forth with all his generation or 
linage, the males before him, and the females following 
him ; and if there be a mother from whose body the whole 
linage is descended, there is a traverse*^ placed in a loft 
above on the right hand of the chair, with a privy*® door, 
and a carved window of glass, leaded with gold and blue; 
where she sitteth, but is not seen. When the Tirsan is 
come forth, he sitteth down in the chair; and all the linage 
place themselves against the wall, both at his back and 
upon the return^** of the half-pace, in order of their years 
without difference of sex; and stand upon their feet. When 

^ Dais, platform. ^ Canopy. *8 Aspen. *'^ Interlacing. 
*8 Curtain. *» Private. so side. 



174 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON 

he is set ; the room being always full of company, but well 
kept and without disorder; after some pause, there cometh 
in from the lower end of the room, a taratan (which is as 
much as an herald) and on either side of him two young 
lads; whereof one carrieth a scroll of their shining yellow 
parchment; and the other a cluster of grapes of gold, with 
a long foot or stalk. The herald and children are clothed 
with mantles of sea-water green satin; but the herald's 
mantle is streamed^^ with gold, and hath a train. 

Then the herald with three curtesies, or rather inclina- 
tions, cometh up as far as the half-pace; and there first 
taketh into his hand the scroll. This scroll is the king's 
charter, containing gifts of revenew, and many privileges, 
exemptions, and points of honour, granted to the Father of 
the Family; and is ever styled and directed, To such an one 
our well beloved friend and creditor: which is a title proper 
only to this case. For they say the king is debtor to no 
man, but for propagation of his subjects. The seal set to 
the king's charter is the king's image, imbossed or moulded 
in gold; and though such charters be expedited" of course, 
and as of right, yet they are varied by discretion, according 
to the number and dignity of the family. This charter the 
herald readeth aloud; and while it is read, the father or 
Tirsan standeth up supported by two of his sons, such as he 
chooseth. Then the herald mounteth the half-pace and deliv- 
ereth the charter into his hand : and with that there is an ac- 
clamation by all that are present in their language, which 
is thus much: Happy are the people of Bensalem. 

Then the herald taketh into his hand from the other child 
the cluster of grapes, which is of gold, both the stalk and 
the grapes. But the grapes are daintily enamelled; and 
if the males of the family be the greater number, the grapes 
are enamelled purple, with a little sun set on the top ; if 
the females, then they are enamelled into a greenish yellow, 
with a crescent on the top. The grapes are in number as 
many as there are descendants of the family. This golden 
cluster the herald delivereth also to the Tirsan ; who presently 
delivereth it over to that son that he had formerly chosen to 
be in house with him: who beareth it before his father as 

^^ Watered. ^^ issued. 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 175 

an ensign of honour when he goeth in public, ever after ; and 
is thereupon called the Son of the Vine. 

After the ceremony endeth the father or Tirsan retireth; 
and after some time cometh forth again to dinner, where he 
sitteth alone under the state, as before; and none of his de- 
scendants sit with him, of what degree or dignity soever, 
except he hap to be of Salomon's House. He is served 
only by his own children, such as are male; who perform 
unto him all service of the table upon the knee; and the 
women only stand about him, leaning against the wall. The 
room below the half-pace hath tables on the sides for the 
guests that are bidden; who are served with great and 
comely order; and towards the end of dinner (which in the 
greatest feasts with them lasteth never above an hour and 
an half) there is an hymn sung, varied according to the in- 
vention of him that composeth it (for they have excellent 
posy) but the subject of it is (always) the praises of Adam 
and Noah and Abraham ; whereof the former two peopled the 
world, and the last was the Father of the Faithful : concluding 
ever with a thanksgiving for the nativity of our Saviour, in 
whose birth the births of all are only blessed. 

Dinner being done, the Tirsan retireth again; and having 
withdrawn himself alone into a place, where he makes some 
private prayers, he cometh forth the third time, to give the 
blessing with all his descendants, who stand about him 
as at the first. Then he calleth them forth by one and by one, 
by name, as he pleaseth, though seldom the order of age be 
inverted. The person that is called (the table being before 
removed) kneeleth down before the chair, and the father 
layeth his hand upon his head, or her head, and giveth the 
blessing in these words: Son of Bensalem, (or daughter of 
Bensalem,) thy father saith it: the man by whom thou hast 
breath and life speaketh the word: the blessing of the ever- 
lasting Father, the Prince of Peace, and the Holy Dove, be 
upon thee, and make the days of thy pilgrimage good and 
many. This he saith to every of them ; and that done, if there 
be any of his sons of eminent merit and virtue, (so they 
be not above two,) he calleth for them again; and saith, 
laying his arm over their shoulders, they standing; Sons, 
it is well ye are born, give God the praise, and persevere 



176 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON 

to the end. And withall delivereth to either of them a 
jewel, made in the figure" of an <ear of wheat, which they 
ever after wear in the front of their turban or hat. This 
done, they fall to music and dances, and other recreations, 
after their manner, for the rest of the day. This is the full 
order of that feast. 

By that time six or seven days were spent, I was fallen 
into straight acquaintance with a merchant of that city, 
whose name was Joabin. He was a Jew and circumcised: 
for they have some few stirps*^ of Jews yet remaining among 
them, whom they leave to their own religion. Which they 
may the better do, because they are of a far differing dis- 
position from the Jews in other parts. For whereas they 
hate the name of Christ; and have a secret inbred rancour 
against the people among whom they live: these (contrari- 
wise) give unto our Saviour many high attributes, and love 
the nation of Bensalem extremely. Surely this man of 
whom I speak would ever acknowledge that Christ was 
born of a virgin and that he was more than a man; and 
he would tell how God made him ruler of the seraphims 
which guard his throne; and they call him also the Milken 
Way, and the Eliah of the Messiah; and many other high 
names; which though they be inferior to his divine majesty, 
yet they are far from the language of other Jews. 

And for the country of Bensalem, this man would make 
no end of commending it; being desirous, by tradition among 
the Jews there, to have it believed that the people thereof 
were of the generations of Abraham, by another son, whom 
they call Nachoran; and that Moses by a secret Cabala 
ordained the Laws of Bensalem which they now use; and 
that when the Messiah should come, and sit in his throne 
at Hierusalem, the king of Bensalem should sit at his feet, 
whereas other kings should keep a great distance. But 
yet setting aside these Jewish dreams, the man was a wise 
man, and learned, and of great policy, and excellently seen 
in the laws and customs of that nation. 

Amongst other discourses, one day I told him I was much 
affected with the relation I had, from some of the com- 
pany, of their custom, in holding the Feast of the Family; 

» Shape. 54 Families, stocks. 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 177 

for that (methought) I had never heard of a solemnity 
wherein nature did so much preside. And because propaga- 
tion of famiHes proceedeth from the nuptial copulation, I 
desired to know of him what laws and customs they had con- 
cerning marriage; and whether they kept marriage well and 
whether they were tied to one wife; for that where popula- 
tion is so much affected/^ and such as with them it seemed 
to be, there is commonly permission of plurality of wives. 

To this he said, " You have reason for to commend that 
excellent institution of the Feast of the Family. And indeed 
we have experience that those families that are partakers 
of the blessing of that feast do flourish and prosper ever 
after in an extraordinary manner. But hear me now, and 
I will tell you what I know. You shall understand that 
there is not under the heavens so chaste a nation as this 
of Bensalem; nor so free from all pollution or foulness. 
It is the virgin of the world. I remember I have read in 
one of your European books, of an holy hermit amongst 
you that desired to see the Spirit of Fornication; and there 
appeared to him a little foul ugly ^thiop. But if he had 
desired to see the Spirit of Chastity of Bensalem, it would 
have appeared to him in the likeness of a fair beautiful 
Cherubin. For there is nothing amongst mortal men more 
fair and admirable, than the chaste minds of this people. 
Know therefore, that with them there are no stews, no dis- 
solute houses, no courtesans, nor anything of that kind. Nay 
they wonder (with detestation) at you in Europe, which 
permit such things. They say ye have put marriage out 
of office: for marriage is ordained a remedy for unlawful 
concupiscence; and natural concupiscence seemeth as a 
spur to marriage. But when men have at hand a remedy 
more agreeable to their corrupt will, marriage is almost 
expulsed. And therefore there are with you seen infinite 
m.en that marry not, but chuse rather a libertine and impure 
single life, than to be yoked in marriage; and many that do 
marry, marry late, when the prime and strength of their 
years is past. And when they do marry, what is marriage 
to them but a very bargain; wherein is sought alliance, or 
portion, or reputation, with some desire (almost indifferent) 

^ Desired. 



178 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON 

of issue; and not the faithful nuptial union of man and 
wife, that was first instituted. Neither is it possible that 
those that have cast away so basely so much of their 
strength, should greatly esteem children, (being of the same 
matter,) as chaste men do.' So likewise during marriage, 
is the case much amended, as it ought to be if those things 
were tolerated only for necessity? No, but they remain 
still as a very affront to marriage. The haunting of those 
dissolute places, or resort to courtesans, are no more pun- 
ished in married men than in bachelors. And the depraved 
custom of change, and the delight in meretricious embrace- 
ments, (where sin is turned into art,) maketh marriage a 
dull thing, and a kind of imposition or tax. They hear you 
defend these things, as done to avoid greater evils; as ad- 
voutries,^ deflowering of virgins, unnatural lust, and the like. 
But they say this is a preposterous wisdom; and they call 
it Lofs offer, who to save his guests from abusing, offered 
his daughters : nay they say farther that there is little gained 
in this ; for that the same vices and appetites do still remain 
and abound; unlawful lust being like a furnace, that if you 
stop the flames altogether, it will quench; but if you give 
it any vent, it will rage. As for masculine love, they have 
no touch of it; and yet there are not so faithful and in- 
violate friendships in the world again as are there; and to 
speak generally, (as I said before,) I have not read of any 
such chastity, in any people as theirs. And their usual saying 
is, That zvhosoever is unchaste cannot reverence himself ; and 
they say. That the reverence of a man's self, is, next religion, 
the chief est bridle of all vices." 

And when he had said this, the good Jew paused a little; 
whereupon I, far more willing to hear him speak on than 
to speak myself, yet thinking it decent that upon his pause 
of speech I should not be altogether silent, said only this; 
" That I would say to him, as the widow of Sarepta said to 
Elias; that he was come to bring to memory our sins; and 
that I confess the righteousness of Bensalem was greater 
than the righteousness of Europe." At which speech he 
bowed his head, and went on in this manner : 

" They have also many wise and excellent laws touching 

1 Adulteries. 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 179 

marriage. They allow no polygamy. They have ordained 
that none do intermarry or contract, until a month be past 
from their first interview. Marriage without consent of 
parents they do not make void, but they mulct^* it in the in- 
heritors : for the children of such marriages are not admitted 
to inherit above a third part of their parents' inheritance. 
I have read in a book of one of your men, of a Feigned 
Commonwealth, where the married couple are permitted, be- 
fore they contract, to see one another naked. This they 
dislike; for they think it a scorn to give a refusal after so 
familiar knowledge: but because of many hidden defects in 
men and women's bodies, they have a more civil way; for 
they have near every town a couple of pools, (which they 
call Adam and Eve's pools,) where it is permitted to one of 
the friends of the men, and another of the friends of the 
woman, to see them severally bathe naked." 

And as we were thus in conference, there came one that 
seemed to be a messenger, in a rich huke,**^ that spake with 
the Jew : whereupon he turned to me and said ; " You will 
pardon me, for I am commanded away in haste." The next 
morning he came to me again, joyful as it seemed, and 
said ; " There is word come to the Governor of the city, that 
one of the Father's of Salomon's House will be here this 
day seven-night: we have seen none of them this dozen 
years. His coming is in state; but the cause of his coming 
is secret. I will provide you and your fellows of a good 
standing to see his entry." I thanked him, and told him, I 
was most glad of the news. 

The day being come, he made his entry. He was a man 
of middle stature and age, comely of person, and had an 
aspect as if he pitied men. He was clothed in a robe of fine 
black cloth, with wide sleeves and a cape. His under gar- 
ment was of excellent white linen down to the foot, girt 
with a girdle of the same; and a sindon or tippet of the 
same about his neck. He had gloves, that were curious,*^' 
and set with stone ; and shoes of peach-coloured velvet. His 
neck was bare to the shoulders. His hat was like a helmet, 
or Spanish montera f and his locks curled below it decently : 

^ Penalize. ^^ More's Utopia. ^ A cape with a hood. ^^ Of elaborate 
design. ^ A cap with a round crown and flaps. 



180 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON 

they were of colour brown. His beard was cut round, and 
of the same colour with his hair, somewhat lighter. He was 
carried in a rich chariot without wheels, litter-wise; with 
two horses at either end, richly trapped in blue velvet em- 
broidered; and two footmen on each side in the like attire. 
The chariot was all of cedar, gilt, and adorned with crystal; 
save that the fore-end had panels of sapphires, set in borders 
of gold; and the hinder-end the like of emeralds of the 
Peru colour. There was also a sun of gold, radiant, upon 
the top, in the midst; and on the top before, a small cherub 
of gold, with wings displayed.®^ The chariot was covered 
with cloth of gold tissued upon blue. He had before him 
fifty attendants, young men all, in white satin loose coats 
to the mid leg; and stockings of white silk; and shoes of 
blue velvet; and hats of blue velvet; with fine plumes of 
diverse colours, set round like hat-bands. Next before the 
chariot, went two men, bare-headed, in linen garments down 
the foot, girt, and shoes of blue velvet ; who carried, the one 
a crosier, the other a pastoral staff like a sheep-hook; 
neither of them of metal, but the crosier of balm-wood,^^ 
the pastoral staff of cedar. Horsemen he had none, neither 
before nor behind his chariot: as it seemeth to avoid all 
tumult and trouble. Behind his chariot went all the officers 
and principals of the companies of the city. He sat, alone, 
upon cushions of a kind of excellent plush, blue; and under 
his foot curious carpets of silk of diverse colours, like the 
Persian, but far finer. He held up his bare hand as he went, 
as blessing the people, but in silence. The street was won- 
derfully well kept: so that there was never any army had 
their men stand in better battle-array than the people stood. 
The windows likewise were not crowded, but every one stood 
in them as if they had been placed. 

When the shew was past, the Jew said to me ; "I shall not 
be able to attend you as I would, in regard of some charge 
the city hath laid upon me, for the entertaining of this great 
person." Three days after the Jew came to me again, and 
said ; " Ye are happy men ; for the Father of Salomon's House 
taketh knowledge of your being here, and commanded me 
to tell you that he will admit all your company to his 

«i Spread. ^a Balsam. 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 181 

presence, and have private conference with one of you, 
that ye shall choose : and for this hath appointed the next day 
after to-morrow. And because he meaneth to give you his 
blessing, he hath appointed it in the forenoon. 

We came at our day and hour, and I was chosen by my 
fellows for the private access. We found him in a fair 
chamber, richly hanged, and carpeted under foot, without any 
degrees^^ to the state^. He was set upon a low Throne richly 
adorned, and a' rich cloth of state®^ over his head, of blue 
satin embroidered. He was alone, save that he had two 
pages of honour, on either hand one, finely attired in white. 
His under garments were the like that we saw him wear in 
the chariot; but instead of his gown, he had on him a 
mantle with a cape, of the same fine black, fastened about 
him. When we came in, as we were taught, we bowed low 
at our first entrance ; and when we were come near his chair, 
he stood up, holding forth his hand ungloved, and in posture 
of blessing ; and we every one of us stooped down, and kissed 
the hem of his tippet. That done, the rest departed, and I 
remained. Then he warned^*^ the pages forth of the room, 
and caused me to sit down beside him, and spake to me thus 
in the Spanish tongue. 

" God bless thee, my son ; I will give thee the greatest jewel 
I have. For I will impart unto thee, for the love of God 
and men, a relation of the true state of Salomon's House. 
Son, to make you know the true state of Salomon's House, 
I will keep this order. First, I will set forth unto you the 
end of our foundation. Secondly, the preparations and in- 
struments we have for our works. Thirdly, the several 
employments and functions whereto our fellows are assigned. 
And fourthly, the ordinances and rites which we observe. 

" The end of our foundation is the knowledge of causes, 
and secret motions of things ; and the enlarging of the bounds 
of human empire, to the effecting of all things possible. 

" The Preparations and Instruments are these. We have 
large and deep caves of several depths: the deepest are sunk 
six hundred fathom : and some of them are digged and made 
under great hills and mountains : so that if you reckon to- 
gether the depth of the hill and the depth of the cave, 

^^ Steps. ** Throne. ^ Canopy. s® Ordered. 
HC III 12 



182 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON 

they are (some of them) above three miles deep. For we 
find, that the depth of a hill, and the depth of a cave from the 
flat, is the same thing; both remote alike, from the sun and 
heaven's beams, and from the open air. These caves we 
call the Lower Region ; and we use them for all coagulations, 
indurations, refrigerations, and conservations^' of bodies. We 
use them likewise for the imitation of natural mines; and 
the producing also of new artificial metals, by compositions 
and materials which we use, and lay there 'for many years. 
We use them also sometimes, (which may seem strange,) for 
curing of some diseases, and for prolongation of life in 
some hermits that choose to live there, well accommodated 
of all things necessary, and indeed live very long; by whom 
also we learn many things. 

" We have burials in several earths, where we put diverse 
cements, as the Chineses do their porcellain. But we have 
them in greater variety, and some of them more fine. We 
have also great variety of composts,^ and soils, for the mak- 
ing of the earth fruitful. 

" We have high towers ; the highest about half a mile in 
height ; and some of them likewise set upon high mountains ; 
so that the vantage of the hill with the tower is in the highest 
of them three miles at least. And these places we call the 
Upper Region ; accounting the air between the high places and 
the low, as a Middle Region. We use these towers, according 
to their several heights, and situations, for insolation,®^ re- 
frigeration, conservation ; and for the view of divers meteors ; 
as winds, rain, snow, hail ; and some of the fiery meteors also. 
And upon them, in some places, are dwellings of hermits, 
whom we visit sometimes, and instruct what to observe. 

" We have great lakes, both salt, and fresh ; whereof we 
have use for the fish and fowl. We use them also for burials 
of some natural bodies: for we find a difference in things 
buried in earth or in air below the earth, and things buried 
in water. We have also pools, of which some do strain 
fresh water out of salt ; and others by art do turn fresh water 
into salt. We have also some rocks in the midst of the sea, 
and some bays upon the shore for some works, wherein is 

67 Experiments in thickening, hardening, freezing, and preserving. 
•8 Manures. •* Exposing to the action of the sun. 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 183 

required the air and vapor of the sea. We have likewise 
violent streams and cataracts, v^hich serve us for many 
motions:'''' and likewise engines^" for multiplying and enforc- 
ing of winds, to set also on going diverse motions. 

" We have also a number of artificial wells and fountains, 
made in imitation of the natural sources and baths ; as tincted 
upon''^ vitriol, sulphur, steel, brass, lead, riitre, and other min- 
erals. And again we have little wells for infusions of many 
things, where the waters take the virtue quicker and better, 
than in vessels or basins. And amongst them we have a 
water which we call Water of Paradise, being, by that we 
do to it made very sovereign for health, and prolongation of 
life. 

** We have also great and spacious houses where we imitate 
and demonstrate meteors; as snow, hail, rain, some artificial 
rains of bodies and not of water, thunders, lightnings; also 
generations of bodies in air; as frogs, flies, and diverse others. 

"We have also certain chambers, which we call Chambers of 
Health, where we qualify the air as we think good and proper 
for the cure of diverse diseases, and preservation of health. 

" We have also fair and large baths, of several mixtures, for 
the cure of diseases, and the restoring of man's body from 
arefaction '1^ and others for the confirming of it in strength 
of sinewes, vital parts, and the very juice and substance of 
the body. 

" We have also large and various orchards and gardens ; 
wherein we do not so much respect beauty, as variety of 
ground and soil, proper for diverse trees and herbs: and 
some very spacious, where trees and berries are set whereof 
we make diverse kinds of drinks, besides the vineyards. In 
these we practise likewise all conclusions^^ of grafting, and 
inoculating'* as well of wild-trees as fruit-trees, which 
produceth many effects. And we make (by art) in the same 
orchards and gardens, trees and flowers to come earlier or 
later than their seasons; and to come up and bear more 
speedily than by their natural course they do. We make 
them also by art greater much than their nature; and their 
fruit greater and sweeter and of differing taste, smell, colour, 

'" Machines. '"^ Tinctured with. '^2 Drying up. 

■^3 Experiments. '* Budding. 



184 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON 

and figure, from their nature. And many of them we so 
order, as they become of medicinal use. 

" We have also means to make diverse plants rise by mix- 
tures of earths without seeds; and likewise to make diverse 
new plants, differing from the vulgar; and to make one tree 
or plant turn into another. 

" We have also parks and enclosures of all sorts of beasts 
and birds which we use not only for view or rareness, but 
likewise for dissections and trials; that thereby we may 
take light what may be wrought upon the body of man. 
Wherein we find many strange effects; as continuing life 
in them, though diverse parts, which you account vital, be 
perished and taken forth; resuscitating of some that seem 
dead in appearance; and the like. We try also all poisons 
and other medicines upon them, as well of chirurgery,^ as 
physic. By art likewise, we make them greater or taller 
than their kind'^ is; and, contrariwise dwarf them, and stay 
their growth : we make them more fruitful and bearing than 
their kind is; and contrariwise barren and not generative. 
Also we make them differ in colour, shape, activity, many ways. 
We find means to make commixtures and copulations of dif- 
ferent kinds ; which have produced many new kinds, and them 
not barren, as the general opinion is. We make a number 
of kinds of serpents, worms, flies, fishes, of putrefaction; 
whereof some are advanced (in effect) to be perfect crea- 
tures, like beasts or birds ; and have sexes, and do propagate. 
Neither do we this by chance, but we know beforehand, of 
what matter and commixture what kind of those creatures 
will arise. 

" We have also particular pools, where we make trials upon 
fishes, as we have said before of beasts and birds. 

" We have also places for "breed and generation of those 
kinds of worms and flies which are of special use; such as 
are with you your silk-worms and bees. 

" I will not hold you long with recounting of our brew- 
houses, bake-houses, and kitchens, where are made diverse 
drinks, breads, and meats, rare and of special effects. Wines 
we have of grapes; and drinks of other juice of fruits, of 
grains, and of roots; and of mixtures with honey, sugar, manna, 

'^^ Surgery. '^^ Species. 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 185 

and fruits dried, and decocted ;" Also of the tears or wound- 
ings of trees ; and of the pulp of canes. And these drinks are 
of several ages, some to the age or last of forty years. We 
have drinks also brewed with several herbs, and roots, and 
spices; yea with several fleshes, and white-meats; whereof 
some of the drinks are such, as they are in effect meat and 
drink both : so that diverse, especially in age, do desire to 
live with them, with little or no meat or bread. And above 
all, we strive to have drink of extreme thin parts, to insinuate'* 
into the body, and yet without all biting, sharpness, or fret- 
ting ; insomuch as some of . them put upon the back of 
your hand will, with a little stay,'^^ pass through to the palm, 
and yet taste mild to the mouth. We have also waters 
which we ripen in that fashion, as they become nourishing; 
so that they are indeed excellent drink; and many will use 
no other. Breads we have of several grains, roots, and 
kernels; yea and some of flesh and fish dried; with diverse 
kinds of leavenings and seasonings : so that some do ex- 
tremely move appetites; some do nourish so, as diverse do 
live of them, without any other meat; who live very long. 
So for meats, we have some of them so beaten and made ten- 
der and mortified,^" yet without all corrupting, as a weak 
heat of the stomach will turn them into good chylus;*^ as 
well as a strong heat would meat otherwise prepared. We 
have some meats also and breads and drinks, which taken 
by men enable them to fast long after; and some other, 
that used make the very flesh of men's bodies sensibly^^ 
more hard and tough and their strength far greater than 
otherwise it would be. 

" We have dispensatories, or shops of medicines. Wherein 
you may easily think, if we have such variety of plants and 
living creatures more than you have in Europe, (for we know 
what you have,) the simples, drugs, and ingredients of 
medicines, must likewise be in so much the greater variety. 
We have them likewise of diverse ages, and long fermen- 
tations. And for their preparations, we have not only all 
manner of exquisite distillations and separations, and es- 
pecially by gentle heats and percolations through diverse 

'^'^ Boiled down. '^^ Creep or wind. '^^ Delay. ^^ Made tender. 

81 Chyle. S2 Perceptibly to the touch. 



186 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON 

strainers, yea and substances; but also exact forms^ of com- 
position, whereby they incorporate almost, as they were 
natural simples. 

'' We have also diverse mechanical arts, which you have 
not ; and stuffs made by them ; as papers, linen, silks, tissues ; 
dainty works of feathers of wonderful lustre; excellent dies, 
and many others; and shops likewise, as well for such as 
are not brought into vulgar use amongst us as for those 
that are. For you must know that of the things before re- 
cited, many of them are grown into use throughout the 
kingdom; but yet, if they did flow from our invention, we 
have of them also for patterns and principals.^ 

" We have also furnaces of great diversities, and that 
keep great diversity of heats; fierce and quick; strong and 
constant; soft and mild; blown, quiet; dry, moist; and the 
like. But above all, we have heats, in imitation of the Sun's 
and heavenly bodies' heats, that pass diverse inequalities, 
and (as it were) orbs,^" progresses, and returns, whereby we 
produce admirable effects. Besides, we have heats of dungs ; 
and of bellies and maws of living creatures, and of their 
bloods and bodies; and of hays and herbs laid up moist; of 
lime unquenched; and such like. Instruments also which 
generate heat only by motion. And farther, places for strong 
insolations;^® and again, places under the earth, which by 
nature, or art, yield heat. These diverse heats we use, as 
the nature of the operation, which we intend, requireth. 

" We have also perspective-houses,^^ where we make dem- 
onstrations of all lights and radiations; and of all colours: 
and out of things uncoloured and transparent, we can repre- 
sent unto you all several colours; not in rain-bows, (as it is 
in gems, and prisms,) but of themselves single. We repre- 
sent also all multiplications^^ of light, which we carry to great 
distance, and make so sharp as to discern small points 
and lines. Also all colourations of light; all delusions and 
deceits of the sight, in figures, magnitudes, motions, colours : 
all demonstrations of shadows. We find also diverse means, 
yet unknown to you, of producing of light originally^^ from 
diverse bodies. We procure means of seeing objects afar 

83 Formulas. ** Models. ^ Orbits. ^^ Exposure ta the sun. 

8"? Places for optical experiments. ss Intensifications. ^^ Spontaneously. 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 187 

off; as in the heaven and remote places and represent 
things near as afar off; and things afar off as near; making 
feigned distances. We have also helps for the sight, far 
above spectacles and glasses in use. We have also glasses 
and means to see small and minute bodies perfectly and 
distinctly ; as the shapes and colours of small flies and worms, 
grains and flaws in gems, which cannot otherwise be seen, 
observations in urine and blood not otherwise to be seen. 
We make artificial rain-bows, halo's, and circles about light. 
We represent also all manner of reflexions, refractions, and 
multiplications^^ of visual beams of objects. 

" We have also precious stones of all kinds, many of them 
of great beauty, and to you unknown ; crystals likewise ; and 
glasses of diverse kinds ; and amongst them some of metals 
vitrificated,^ and other materials besides those of which 
you make glass. Also a number of fossils, and imperfect 
minerals, which you have not. Likewise loadstones of pro- 
digious virtue; and other rare stones, both natural and 
artificial. 

*' We have also sound-houses, where we practise and dem- 
onstrate all sounds, and their generation. We have har- 
monies which you have not, of quarter-sounds, and lesser 
slides^^ of sounds. Diverse instruments of music likewise to 
you unknown, some sweeter than any you have; together 
with bells and rings that are dainty and sweet. We repre- 
sent small sounds as great and deep; likewise great sounds 
extenuate"" and sharp; we make diverse tremblings and 
warblings of sounds, which in their originaf'' are entire. We 
represent and imitate all articulate sounds and letters, and 
the voices and notes of beasts and birds. We have certain 
helps which set to the ear do further the hearing greatly. 
We have also diverse strange and artificial echoes, reflecting 
the voice many times, and as it were tossing it: and some 
that give back the voice louder than it came, some shriller, 
and some deeper; yea, some rendering the voice differing in 
the letters or articulate sound from that they receive. We 
have also means to convey sounds in trunks and pipes, in 
strange lines and distances. 

"We have also perfume-houses; wherewith we join also 

^ Intensifications. °^ Turned into glass. ^ Fine shades. ^^ Thin. ^^ Origin. 



188 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON 

practices of taste. We multiply smells, which may seem 
strange. We imitate smells, making all smells to breathe out 
of other mixtures than those that give them. We make di- 
verse imitations of taste likewise, so that they will deceive 
any man's taste. And in this house we contain^ also a 
confiture-house; where we make all sweet-meats, dry and 
moist; and diverse pleasant wines, milks, broths, and sallets; 
in far greater variety than you have. 

" We have also engine-houses, where are prepared engines 
and instruments for all sorts of motions. There we imitate 
and practise to make swifter motions than any you have, 
either out of your muskets or any engine that you have: 
and to make them and multiply them more easily, and with 
small force, by wheels and other means: and to make them 
stronger and more violent than yours are; exceeding your 
greatest cannons and basilisks.^ We represent also ord- 
nance and instruments of war, and engines of all kinds : and 
likewise new mixtures and compositions of gun-powder, 
wild-fires burning in water, and unquenchable. Also fire- 
works of all variety both for pleasure and use. We imitate 
also flights of birds; we^have some degrees of flying in the 
air. We have ships and boats for going under water, and 
brooking^ of seas; also swimming-girdles and supporters. 
We have divers curious clocks, and other like motions of 
return: and some perpetual motions. We imitate also mo- 
tions of living creatures, by images, of men, beasts, birds, 
fishes, and serpents. We have also a great number of other 
various motions, strange for equality, fineness, and subtilty. 

" We have also a mathematical house, where are repre- 
sented all instruments, as well of geometry as astronomy, 
exquisitely made. 

" We have also houses of deceits of the senses ; where we 
represent all manner of feats of juggling, false apparitions, 
impostures, and illusions; and their fallacies.®^ And surely 
you will easily believe that we that have so many things 
truly natural which induce admiration,^^ could in a world of 
particulars deceive the senses, if we would disguise those 
things and labour to make them seem more miraculous. But 

^ Include. ^^ a kind of cannon. ^^ Withstanding. ^ Exposures. 
»8 Wonder. 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 189 

we do hate all impostures, and lies; insomuch as we have 
severely forbidden it to all our fellows, under pain of 
ignominy and fines, that they do not shew any natural work 
or thing, adorned or swelling; but only pure as it is, and 
without all affectation of strangeness. 

" These are (my son) the riches of Salomon's House. 

" For the several employments and offices of our fellows ; 
we have twelve that sail into foreign countries, under the 
names of other nations, (for our own we conceal) ; who 
bring us the books, and abstracts, and patterns of experi- 
ments of all other parts. These we call Merchants of Light. 

*' We have three that collect the experiments which are in 
all books. These we call Depredators.^^ 

" We have three that collect the experiments of all me- 
chanical arts; and also of liberal sciences; and also of 
practices which are not brought into arts. These we call 
Mystery-men.^°° 

" We have three that try new experiments, such as them- 
selves think good. These we call Pioners or Miners. 

" We have three that draw the experiments of the former 
four into titles and tables, to give the better light for the 
drawing of observations and axioms out of them. These we 
call Compilers. 

" We have three that bend themselves, looking into the 
experiments of their fellows, and cast about how to draw 
out of them things of use and practise for man's life, and 
knowledge, as well for works as for plain demonstration 
of causes, means of natural divinations, and the easy and 
clear discovery of the virtues and parts of bodies. These 
we call Dowery-men"' or Benefactors. 

" Then after diverse meetings and consults of our whole 
number, to consider of the former labours and collections, 
we have three that take care, out of them, to direct new 
experiments, of a higher light, more penetrating into nature 
than the former. These we call Lamps. 

" We have three others that do execute the experiments so 
directed, and report them. These we call Inoculators. 

" Lastly, we have three that raise the former discoveries 

89 Pillagers. ^^ Craftsmen. loi Endowment men. 



190 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON 

by experiments into greater observations, axioms, and 
aphorisms. These we call Interpreters of Nature. 

" We have also, as you must think, novices and apprentices, 
that the succession of the former employed men do not fail; 
besides, a great number of servants and attendants, men and 
women. And this we do also: we have consultations, which 
of the inventions and experiences which we have discov- 
ered shall be published, and which not : and take all an oath 
of secrecy, for the concealing of those which we think fit to 
keep secret : though some of those we do reveal sometimes to 
the state and some not. 

" For our ordinances and rites : we have two very long and 
fair galleries : in one of these we place patterns and sam- 
ples of all manner of the more rare and excellent inventions : 
in the other we place the statuas of all principal inventors. 
There we have the statua of your Columbus, that discovered 
the West Indies : also the inventor of ships : your monk that 
was the inventor of ordnance and of gunpowder : the inven- 
tor of music: the inventor of letters: the inventor of print- 
ing : the inventor of observations of astronomy : the inventor 
of works in metal : the inventor of glass : the inventor of silk 
of the worm : the inventor of wine : the inventor of corn and 
bread : the inventor of sugars : and all these, by more certain 
tradition than you have. Then have we diverse inventors 
of our own, of excellent works; which since you have not 
seen, it were too long to make descriptions of them; and 
besides, in the right understanding of those descriptions you 
might easily err. For upon every invention of value, we 
erect a statua to the inventor, and give him a liberal and 
honourable reward. These statuas are some of brass; some 
of marble and touch-stone ;^''^ some of cedar and other special 
woods gilt and adorned; some of iron; some of silver; some 
of gold. 

" We have certain hymns and services, which we say daily, 
of Lord and thanks to God for his marvellous works: and 
forms of prayers, imploring his aid and blessing for the 
illumination of our labours, and the turning of them into 
good and holy uses, 

102 ^ variety of jasper. 



THE NEW ATLANTIS 191 

" Lastly, we have circuits or visits of divers principal cities 
of the kingdom; where, as it cometh to pass, we do publish 
such new profitable inventions as we think good. And we 
do also declare natural divinations of diseases, plagues, 
swarms of hurtful creatures, scarcity, tempests, earthquakes, 
great inundations, comets, temperature of the year, and di- 
verse other things ; and we give counsel thereupon, what the 
people shall do for the prevention and remedy of them." 

And when he had said this, he stood up; and I, as I had 
been taught, kneeled down, and he laid his right hand upon 
my head, and said ; " God bless you, my son ; and God bless 
this relation, which I have made. I give thee leave to pub- 
Hsh it for the good of other nations; for we here are in 
God's bosom, a land unknown." And so he left me; having 
assigned a value of about two thousand ducats, for a bounty 
to me and my fellows. For they give great largesses where 
they come upon all occasions. 

[The rest was not perfected,^ 



AREOPAGITICA 

A SPEECH 

FOR THE LIBERTY OF UNLICENSED PRINTING TO THE 

PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND 

BY 

JOHN MILTON 



TeAeu^epov S'eKelvo, It Ti? fle'Aet jroXei 
Xprj(r6i/ Tt PovXevft eis tii<TOv 4>epei,v, exutv. 

St^a, Ti TOVTWV eaiv itrairfpov TroAei ; 

Euripid. Hicetid. 



7%« w irue Liberty when free horn men 
Having to advise the public may speak free. 
Which he who can, and will, deserves high praise. 
Who neither can nor will, may hold his Peace; 
What can be juster in a State than this ? 

Euripid. Hicetid. 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 

The name of Milton's speech on the freedom of the press was 
imitated from that of the "Logos Areopagiticos" of the Athenian 
orator Isocrates {436-338 B. C), which was also a speech meant 
to be read, not heard. The oration of Isocrates aimed at re- 
establishing the old democracy of Athens by restoring the Court 
of the Areopagus, whence the work derived its title. 

During the ascendency of Laud in the Church of England, his 
instrument, the Court of the Star-Chamber, had reenacted, more 
oppressively than ever, some of the restrictions imposed during 
the reign of Elisabeth on the printing of books. These restric- 
tions disappeared with the abolition of the Star-Cham.ber in 1641, 
but very soon the Presbyterian majority in the Long Parliament 
began to pass orders framed with a view to enable them to sup- 
press publications voicing the political and religious views of 
their opponents. Finally the Order of June, 1643, reproduced 
here, roused Milton to protest, and he issued his famous plea for 
unlicensed printing in the following year. As will be seen from 
the speech itself, he did his best to conciliate the Parliament by 
making cordial acknowledgment of its services to the cause of 
liberty, and he sought to persuade them to reverse their action 
by pointing out its inconsistency with these services. But it does 
not appear that it produced any immediate effect. While the 
Independents under Cromwell had the upper hand, the licensing 
laws were, indeed, very slackly enforced; but with the Restora- 
tion came the reenactment of most of the provisions of the Star- 
Chamber Decree. After being renewed several times for terms 
of years, they finally were allowed to lapse in 1694, ^^^ later 
attempts to renew them were unsuccessful. 

But the importance of Milton's pamphlet is not to be measured 
by its effect on the political situation which was its immediate 
occasion. In his enthusiasm for liberty, the master passion of 
his life, he rose far above the politics of the hour; and the 
"Areopagitica" holds its supremacy among his prose writings by 
virtue of its appeal to fundamental principles, and its triumphant 
assertion of the faith that all that truth needs to ass'Ure its victory 
over error is a fair field and no favor. 



ORDER 

OF THE LONG PARLIAMENT 
FOR THE REGULATING OF PRINTING, 14 JUNE, 1643 

BEING THE OCCASION OF 
MILTON'S AREOPAGITICA 

Whereas divers good Orders have bin lately made by both 
Houses of Parliament, for suppressing the great late abuses and 
frequent disorders in Printing many, false forged, scandalous, 
seditious, libellous, and unlicensed Papers, Pamphlets, and 
Books to the great defamation of Religion and government. 
Which orders (notwithstanding the diligence of the Company 
of Stationers, to put them in full execution) have taken little 
or no effect: By reason the bill in preparation, for redresse of 
the said disorders, hath hitherto bin retarded through the 
present distractions, and very many, aswell Stationeps and 
Printers, as others of sundry other professions not free of the 
Stationers Company, have taken upon them to set up sundry 
private Printing Presses in corners, and to print, vend, publish 
and disperse Books, pamphlets and papers, in such multitudes, 
that no industry could be sufficient to discover or bring to pun- 
ishment, all the severall abounding delinquents; And by reason 
that divers of the Stationers Company and others being Delin- 
quents (contrary to former orders and the constant custome 
used among the said Company) have taken liberty to Print, Vend, 
and publish, the most profitable vendible Copies of Books, be- 
longing to the Company and other Stationers, especially of such 
Agents as are imployed in putting the said Orders in Execution, 
and that by way of revenge for giveing information against them 
to the Houses for their Delinquences in Printing, to the great 
prejudice of the said Company of Stationers and Agents, and to 
their discouragement in this publik service. 

195 



196 A SPEECH 

It is therefore Ordered by the Lords and Commons in Parlia- 
ment, That no Order or Declaration of both, or either House of 
Parliament shall be printed by any, but by order of one or 
both the said Houses: Nor other Book, Pamphlet, paper, nor 
part of any such Book, Pamphlet, or paper, shall from henceforth 
be printed, bound, stitched or put to sale by any person or 
persons whatsoever, unlesse the same be first approved of and 
licensed under the hands of such person or persons as both, or 
either of the said Houses shall appoint for the licensing of the 
same, and entred in the Register Book of the Company of 
Stationers, according to Ancient custom, and the Printer thereof 
to put his name thereto. And that no person or persons shall 
hereafter print, or cause to be reprinted any Book or Books, or 
part of Book, or Books heretofore allowed of and granted to the 
said Company of Stationers for their relief and maintenance of 
their poore, without the licence or consent of the Master, War- 
dens and Assistants of the said Company; Nor any Book or 
Books lawfully licenced and entred in the Register of the said 
Company for any particular member thereof, without the licence 
and consent of the owner or owners thereof. Nor yet import 
any such Book or Books, or part of Book or Books formerly 
Printed here, from beyond the Seas, upon paine of forfeiting 
the same to the Owner, or Owners of the Copies of the said 
Books, and such further punishment as shall be thought fit. 

And the Master and Wardens of the said Company, the Gen- 
tleman Usher of the House of Peers, the Sergeant of the Com- 
mons House and their deputies, together with the persons for- 
merly appointed by the Committee of the House of Commons 
for Examinations, are hereby Authorized and required, from 
time to time, to make diligent search in all places, where they 
shall think meete, for all unlicensed Printing Presses, and all 
Presses any way imployed in the printing of scandalous or un- 
licensed Papers, Pamphlets, Books, or any Copies of Books 
belonging to the said Company, or any member thereof, without 
their approbation and consents, and to seize and carry away 
such Printing Presses Letters, together with the Nut, Spindle, 
and other materialls of every such irregular Printer, which they 
find so misimployed, unto the Common Hall of the said Com- 
pany, there to be defaced and made unserviceable according to 
Ancient Custom; And likewise to make diligent search in all 



ORDER OF THE LONG PARLIAMENT 197 

suspected Printing-houses, Ware-houses, Shops and other places 
for such scandalous and unlicensed Books, papers. Pamphlets, 
and all other Books, not entred, nor signed with the Printers 
name as aforesaid, being printed, or reprinted by such as have 
no lawfull interest in them, or any way contrary to this Order, 
and the same to seize and carry away to the said common hall, 
there to remain till both or either House of Parliament shall 
dispose thereof. And likewise to apprehend all Authors, Printers, 
and other persons whatsoever imployed in compiling, printing, 
stitching, binding, publishing and dispersing of the said scandalous, 
unlicensed, and unwarrantable papers, books and pamphlets as 
aforesaid, and all those who shall resist the said Parties in 
searching after them, and to bring them afore either of the Houses 
or the Committee of Examinations, that so they may receive such 
further punishments, as their Offences shall demerit, and not 
to be released untill they have given satisfaction to the Parties 
imployed in their apprehension for their paines and charges, and 
given sufficient caution not to offend in like sort for the future. 
And all Justices of the Peace, Captaines, Constables and other 
officers, are hereby ordered and required to be aiding, and 
assisting to the foresaid persons in the due execution of all, 
and singular the premisses and in the apprehension of all 
Offenders against the same. And in case of opposition to break 
open the Doores and Locks. 

And it further ordered, that this Order be forthwith Printed 
and Published, to the end that notice may be taken thereof, and 
all Contemners of it left inexcusable. 



HC III 13 



AREOPAGITICA 

A SPEECH 

FOR THE LIBERTY OF UNLICENSED PRINTING 

THEY who to States and Governors of the Common- 
wealth direct their speech, High Court of ParHament, 
or wanting such access in a private condition, write 
that which they foresee may advance the pubHc good ; I sup- 
pose them as at the beginning of no mean endeavor, not a 
Httle altered^ and moved inwardly in their minds : Some with 
doubt of what will be the success,^ others with fear of what 
will be the censure,* some with hope, others with confidence 
of what they have to speak. And me perhaps each of these 
dispositions, as the subject was whereon I entered, may have 
at other times variously affected; and likely might in these 
foremost expressions now also disclose which of them swayed 
most, but that the very attempt of this address thus made, 
and the thought of whom it hath recourse to, hath got the 
power within me to a passion,* far more welcome than inci- 
dental to a preface. Which though I stay not to confess 
ere any ask, I shall be blameless, if it be no other, than the 
joy and gratulation which it brings to all who wish and pro- 
mote their country's liberty; whereof this whole discourse 
proposed will be a certain testimony, if not a trophy. For 
this is not the liberty which we can hope, that no grievance 
e'ver should arise in the commonwealth, that let no man in 
this world expect; but when complaints are freely heard, 
deeply considered, and speedily reformed, then is the utmost 
bound of civil liberty attained, that wise men look for. To 
which if I now manifest hy the very sound of this which I 
shall utter, that we are already in good part arrived, and yet 

1 Troubled. ^ Issue. * Judgment. * Enthusiasm. ^ Appropriate. 

199 



200 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

from such a steep disadvantage of tyranny and superstition 
grounded into our principles as was beyond the manhood of 
a Roman recovery,* it will be attributed first, as is most due, 
to the strong assistance of God our deliverer, next to your 
faithful guidance and undaunted wisdom, Lords and Com- 
mons of England. Neither is it in God's esteem the diminu- 
tion of his glory, when honorable things are spoken of good 
men and worthy magistrates; which if I now first should 
begin to do, after so fair a progress of your laudable deeds, 
and such a long obligement upon the whole realm to your 
indefatigable virtues, I might be justly reckoned among the 
tardiest, and the unwillingest of them that praise ye. Never- 
theless there being three principal things, without which all 
praising is but courtship'^ and flattery; first, when that only 
is praised which is soHdly worth praise : next, when greatest 
likelihoods are brought that such things are truly and really 
in those persons to whom they are ascribed, the other, when 
he who praises, by showing that such his actual persuasion 
is of whom he writes, can demonstrate that he flatters not: 
the former two of these I have heretofore endeavored, rescu- 
ing the employment from him who went about to impair your 
merits. with a trivial and malignant Encomium;^ the latter as 
belonging chiefly to mine own acquittal, that whom I so ex- 
tolled I did not flatter, hath been reserved opportunely to this 
occasion. For he who freely magnifies what hath been nobly 
done, and fears not to declare as freely what might be done 
better, gives you the best covenant of his fideHty; and that 
his loyalest affection and his hope waits on your proceedings. 
His highest praising is not flattery, and his plainest advice is 
a kind of praising; for though I should affirm and hold by 
argument, that it would fare better with truth, with learning, 
and the commonwealth, if one of your published orders which 
I should name, were called in, yet at the same time it could 
not but much redound to the luster of your mild and equal 
government, when as private persons are hereby animated to 
think ye better pleased with public advice, than other statists^ 
have been dehghted heretofore with public flattery. And 

• J. e., after the decline of the empire. ' Courtiership. ^ Bishop Hall 
had damned the Parliament with faint praise. ' Statesmen. 



AREOPAGITICA 201 

men will then see what difference there is between the mag- 
nanimity of a triennial parliament, and that jealous haughti- 
ness of prelates and cabin counselors that usurped of late, 
when as they shall observe ye in the midst of your victories 
and successes more gently brooking written exceptions 
against a voted order, than other courts, which had produced 
nothing worth memory but the weak ostentation of wealth, 
would have endured the least signified dislike at any sudden 
proclamation. If I should thus far presume upon the meek 
demeanor of your civil and gentle greatness, Lords and Com- 
mons, as what your published order hath directly said, that 
to gainsay, I might defend myself with ease, if any should 
accuse me of being new or insolent, did they but know how 
much better I find you esteem it to imitate the old and ele- 
gant humanity of Greece, than the barbaric pride of a Hun- 
nish and Norwegian stateliness. And out of those ages, to 
whose poHte wisdom and letters we owe that we are not 
yet Goths and Jutlanders, I could name him^" who from his 
private house wrote that discourse to the parHament of 
Athens, that persuades them to change the form of Democ- 
racy which was then established. Such honor was done in 
those days to men who professed the study of wisdom and 
eloquence, not only in their own country, but in other lands, 
that cities and seigniories heard them gladly, and with great 
respect, if they had ought in public to admonish the state. 
Thus did Dion Prusocus a stranger and a private orator 
counsel the Rhodians against a former edict: and I abound 
with other like examples, which to set here would be super- 
fluous. But if from the industry of a life wholly dedicated 
to studious labors, and those natural endowments happily 
not the worst for two and fifty degrees of northern latitude, ' 
so much must be derogated,"^^ as to count me not equal to any 
of those who had this privilege, I would obtain to be thought 
not so inferior, as yourselves are superior to the most of 
them who received their counsel: and how far you excel 
them, be assured, Lords and Commons, there can no greater 
testimony appear, than when your prudent spirit acknowl- 
edges and obeys the voice of reason from what quarter so- 
ever it be heard speaking; and renders ye as willing to 

10 Isocrates. " Subtracted. 



202 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

repeal any act of your own setting forth, as any set forth 
by your predecessors. 

If ye be thus resolved, as it were injury to think ye were 
not, I know not what should withhold me from presenting ye 
with a fit instance wherein to show both that love of truth 
which ye eminently profess, and that uprightness of your 
judgment which is not wont to be partial to yourselves; by 
judging over again that order which ye have ordained to 
regulate printing. That no book, pamphlet, or paper shall 
be henceforth printed, unless the same be Urst approved and 
licensed by such, or at least one of such as shall be thereto 
appointed. For that part which preserves justly every man's 
copy^ to himself, or provides for the poor, I touch not, only 
wish they be not made pretenses to abuse and persecute hon- 
est and painful men, who offend not in either of these par- 
ticulars. But that other clause of licensing books, which we 
thought had died with his brother quadragesimal^^ and matri- 
monial^ when the prelates expired, I shall now attend with 
such a homily, as shall lay before you, first the inventors of 
it to be those whom you will be loath to own ; next what is 
to be thought in general of reading, what ever sort the books 
be ; and that this order avails nothing to the suppressing of 
scandalous, seditious, and libelous books, which were mainly 
intended to be suppressed. Last, that it will be primely to 
the discouragement of all learning, and the stop of truth, 
not only by the disexercising and blunting our abilities in 
what we know already, but by hindering and cropping the 
discovery that might be yet further made both in religious 
and civil wisdom. 

I deny not, but that it is of greatest concernment in the 
church and commonwealth, to have a vigilant eye how books 
demean themselves as well as men ; and thereafter to confine, 
imprison, and do sharpest justice on them as malefactors: 
for books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a 
potency of life in them to be as active as that soul was whose 
progeny they are; nay they do preserve as in a vial the 
purest efficacy and extraction of that living intellect that 
bred them. I know they are as lively, and as vigorously pro- 

" Copyright. "Regulations of the Episcopal Church relating to 
Lent and Marriage. 



AREOPAGITICA 203 

ductive, as those fabulous dragon's teeth ; and being sown up 
and down, may chance to spring up armed men. And yet on 
the other hand unless wariness be used, as good almost kill 
a man as kill a good book ; who kills a man kills a reasonable 
creature, God's image; but he who destroys a good book, 
kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were in the 
eye. Many a man lives a burden to the earth; but a good 
book is the precious life-blood of a master spirit, imbalmed 
and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life. It is true, 
no age can restore a life, whereof perhaps there is no great 
loss; and revolutions of ages do not oft recover the loss of a 
rejected truth, for the want of which whole nations fare the 
worse. We should be wary therefore what persecution we 
raise against the living labors of public men, how we spill" 
that seasoned life of man preserved and stored up in books; 
since we see a kind of homicide may be thus committed, 
sometimes a martyrdom, and if it extend to the whole im- 
pression, a kind of massacre, whereof the execution ends 
not in the slaying of an elementaP life, but strikes at that 
ethereal and fifth essence,^^ the breath of reason itself, slays 
an immortality rather than a life. But lest I should be con- 
demned of introducing license, while I oppose licensing, I 
refuse not the pains to be so much historical, as will serve 
to show what has been done by ancient and famous com- 
monwealths, against this disorder, till the very time that this 
project of licensing crept out of the Inquisition, was caught 
up by our prelates, and hath caught some of our presbyters. 
In Athens where books and wits were ever busier than in 
any other part of Greece, I find but only two sorts of writ- 
ings which the magistrate cared to take notice of; those 
either blasphemous and atheistical, or libelous. Thus the 
books of Protagoras were by the judges of Areopagus com- 
manded to be burnt, and himself banished the territory for a 
discourse begun with his confessing not to know whether 
there were gods, or whether not: And against defaming, it 
was decreed that none should be traduced by name, as was 
the manner of Vetus Comoedia" whereby we may guess how 
they censured Hbeling: And this course was quick enough, 

" Destroy. ^^ Material. " Spiritual element. i' The old Attic 

comedy, e. g., of Aristophanes. 



204 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

as Cicero writes, to quell both the desperate wits of other 
atheists, and the open way of defaming, as the event showed. 
Of other sects and opinions though tending to voluptuous- 
ness, and the denying of divine providence they took no 
heed. Therefore we do not read that either Epicurus, or 
that libertine school of Cyrene, or what the Cynic impu- 
dence uttered, was ever questioned by the laws. Neither is 
it recorded that the writings of those old comedians were 
suppressed, though the acting of them were forbidden; and 
that Plato commended the reading of Aristophanes the 
loosest of them all, to his royal scholar Dionysius, is com- 
monly known, and may be excused, if holy Chrysostome, as 
is reported, nightly studied so much the same author and 
had the art to cleanse a scurrilous vehemence into the style 
of a rousing sermon. That other leading city of Greece, 
LacedcFmon, considering that Lycurgus their law-giver was 
so addicted to elegant learning, as to have been the first that 
brought out of Ionia the scattered works of Homer, and sent 
the poet Thales from Crete to prepare and mollify the 
Spartan surliness with his smooth songs and odes, the better 
to plant among them law and civility, it is to be wondered 
how museless^^ and unboogish they were, minding naught but 
the feats of war. There needed no licensing of books among 
them for they disliked all, but their own Laconic Apo- 
thegms, and took a slight occasion to chase Archilochus out 
of their city, perhaps for composing in a higher strain than 
their own soldierly ballads and roundelays could reach to : Or 
if it were for his broad verses, they were not therein so 
cautious, but they were as dissolute in their promiscuous 
conversing," whence Euripides affirms in Andromache, that 
their women were all unchaste. Thus much may give us 
light after what sort books were prohibited among the 
Greeks. The Romans also for many ages trained up only 
to a military roughness, resembling m.ost of the LacedcB- 
monian guise, knew of learning little but what their twelve 
tables, and the Pontific college with their Augurs and 
Flamins taught them in religion and law, so unacquainted 
with other learning, that when Carneades and Critolaus, 
with the Stoic Diogenes coming ambassadors to Rome, 

" Inartistic. ^^ Intercourse. 



AREOPAGITICA 205 

took thereby occasion to give the city a taste of their phi- 
losophy, they were suspected for seducers by no less a man 
than Cato the censor, who moved it in the senate to dismiss 
them speedily, and to banish all such Attic babblers out of 
Italy. But Scipio and others of the noblest senators with- 
stood him and his old Sabine austerity; honored and admired, 
the men; and the censor himself at last in his old age fell 
to the study of that whereof before he was so scrupulous. 
And yet at the same time Ncevins and Plautus the first Latin 
comedians had filled the city with all the borrowed scenes 
of Menander and Philemon. Then began to be considered 
there also what was to be done to libelous books and au- 
thors; for NcBvius was quickly cast into prison for his un- 
bridled pen, and released by the Tribunes upon his recanta- 
tion: We read also that Hbels were burned, and the makers 
punished by Augustus. The like severity no doubt was used 
if aught were impiously written against their esteemed gods. 
Except in these two points, how the world went in books, 
the magistrate kept no reckoning. And therefore Lucretius 
without impeachment versifies his epicurism to Memmius, 
and had the honor to be set forth the second time by Cicero 
so great a father of the commonwealth; although himself 
disputes against that opinion in his own writings. Nor was 
the satirical sharpness, or naked plainness of Lucilius, or 
Catullus, or Flaccus, by any order prohibited. And for mat- 
ters of state, the story of Titius Livius, though it extolled 
that part which Pompey held, was not therefore suppressed 
by Octavius Ccesar of the other faction. But that N aso wa.s 
by him banished in his old age, for the wanton poems of his 
youth, was but a mere covert of state over some secret 
cause: and besides, the books were neither banished nor 
called in. From hence we shall meet with little else but 
tyranny in the Roman empire, that we may not marvel, if 
not so often bad, as good books were silenced. I shall there- 
fore deem to have been large enough in producing what 
among the ancients was punishable to write, save only which, 
all other arguments were free to treat on. 

By this time the emperors were become Christians, whose 
discipline in this point I do not find to have been more 
severe than what was formerly in practise. The books of 



206 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

those whom they took to be grand heretics were examined, 
refuted, and condemned in the general counsels; and not 
till then were prohibited, or burned by authority of the em- 
peror. As for the writings of heathen authors, unless they 
were plain invectives against Christianity, as those of 
Porphyrins and Proclus, they met with no inderdict that 
can be cited, till about the year 400, in a Carthaginian coun- 
cil, wherein bishops themselves were forbidden to read the 
books of Gentiles, but heresies they might read: while others 
long before them on the contrary scrupled more the books 
of heretics, than of Gentiles. And that the primitive councils 
and bishops were wont only to declare what books were not 
commendable, passing no further, but leaving it to each 
one's conscience to read or to lay by, till after the year 
800 is observed already by Padre Paolo the great unmasker 
of the Trentine Council. After which time the Popes of 
Rome engrossing what they pleased of political rule into 
their own hands, extended their dominion over men's eyes, 
as they had before over their judgments, burning and pro- 
hibiting to be read, what they fancied not; yet sparing 
in their censures, and the books not many which they so 
dealt with: till Martin V by his bull not only prohibited, 
but was the first that excommunicated the reading of heret- 
ical books; for about that time Wyclif and Huss growing 
terrible, were they who first drove the papal court to a 
stricter policy of prohibiting. Which course Leo X, and 
his successors followed, until the Council of Trent, and the 
Spanish inquisition engendering together brought forth, or 
perfected those catalogues, and expurging indexes that rake 
through the entrails of many an old good author, with a 
violation worse than any could be offered to his tomb. Nor 
did they stay in matters heretical, but any subject that was 
not to their palate, they either condemned in a prohibition, 
or had it straight into the new purgatory of an index. To 
fill up the measure of encroachment, their last invention 
was to ordain that no book, pamphlet, or paper should be 
printed (as if St. Peter had bequeathed them the keys of 
the press also out of Paradise) unless it were approved and 
licensed under the hands of two or three glutton friars. 
For example: 



AREOPAGITICA 207 

Let the Chancellor Cini be pleased to see if in this present 
work be contained ought that may withstand^ the printing, 
Vincent Rabatta, Vicar of Florence. 
I have seen this present work, and find nothing athwart 
the Catholic faith and good manners: in witness whereof 
I have given, etc. 

Nicolo Cini, Chancellor of Florence. 
Attending the precedent relation, it is allowed that this 
present work of Davansati may be printed, 

Vincent Rabbatta, etc. 
It may be printed, July 15. 

Friar Simon Mompei d' Amelia, 
Chancellor of the holy office in Florence. 
Sure they have a conceit, if he of the bottomless pit had 
not long since broke prison^ that this quadruple exorcism 
would bar him down. I fear their next design will be to get 
into their custody the licensing of that which they say 
Claudius intended, but went not through with. Vouchsafe 
to see another of their forms the Roman stamp : 

Imprimatur^ if it seem good to the reverend master of 
the holy palace, 

Belcastro, Vicegerent. 

Imprimatur, Friar Nicolo Rodolphi, Master of the holy 
palace. 

Sometimes five Imprimaturs are seen together dialogue- 
wise in the Piatza of one title-page, complimenting and 
ducking each to other with their shaven reverences, whether 
the author, who stands by in perplexity at the foot of 
his epistle, shall to the press or to the sponge. These are the 
pretty responsories, these are the dear antiphonies that so 
bewitched of late our prelates, and their chaplains with the 
goodly echo they made; and besotted us to the gay imitation 
of the lordly Imprimatur, one from Lambeth house,^ an- 
other from the West end of Pauls ;^ so apishly Romanizing, 
that the word of command still was set down in Latin; as 
if the learned grammatical pen that wrote it, would cast 

20 Forbid. 21 Let jt be printed (Latin). 22 Residence of the Archbishop 
of Canterbury. ^ Where the Bishop of London formerly lived. 



208 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

no ink without Latin; or perhaps, as they thought, because 
no vulgar tongue was worthy to express the pure conceit 
of an Imprimatur; but rather, as I hope, for that our English, 
the language of men ever famous, and foremost in the 
achievements of liberty, will not easily find servile letters 
enough to spell such a dictatorie^ presumption English. And 
thus ye have the inventors and the original of book-licensing 
ripped up, and drawn as lineally as any pedigree. We 
have it not, that can be heard of, from any ancient state, or 
polity, or church, nor by any statute left us by our ancestors, 
elder or later; nor from the modern custom of any reformed 
city, or church abroad; but from the most Antichristian 
CounciP and the most tyrannous inquisition that ever in- 
quired. Till then books were ever as freely admitted into 
the world as any other birth; the issue of the brain was no 
more stifled than the issue of the womb: no envious Juno 
sat cross-legged^^ over the nativity of any man's intellectual 
offspring; but if it proved a monster, who denies, but that 
it was justly burned, or sunk in the sea. But that a book in 
worse condition than a peccant soul, should be to stand 
before a jury ere it be borne to the world, and undergo yet 
in darkness the judgment of Radamanth and his colleagues,^ 
ere it can pass the ferry backward into light, was never 
heard before, till that mysterious iniquity^ provoked ' and 
troubled at the first entrance of reformation, sought out 
new limbos and new hells wherein they might include our 
books also within the number of their damned. And this 
was the rare morsel so officiously snatched up, and so ill- 
favoredly imitated by our inquisiturient^ bishops, and the 
attendant minorites'''' their chaplains. That ye like not now 
these most certain authors of this licensing order, and that 
all sinister intention was far distant from your thoughts, 
when ye were importuned the passing it, all men who know 
the integrity of your actions, and how ye honor truth, will 
clear ye readily. 

But some will say, what though the inventors were bad, 
the thing for all that may be good? It may so: yet if that 
thing be no such deep invention, but obvious, and easy for 

2* Dictatorial. ^6 Council of Trent. ^ As at the birth of Hercules. 

27 The judges in Hades. ^ The Church of Rome. _ 20 Desirous of 

becoming inquisitors. ^ Franciscan friars. 



AREOPAGITICA 209 

any man to light on, and yet best and wisest commonwealths 
through all ages, and occasions have forborne to use it, and 
falsest seducers, and oppressors of men were the first who 
took it up, and to no other purpose but to obstruct and hinder 
the first approach of Reformation ; I am of those who beheve, 
it will be a harder alchemy than Lullius^^ ever knew, to sub- 
limate^^ any good use out of such an invention. Yet this only 
is what I request to gain from this reason, that it may be 
held a dangerous and suspicious fruit, as certainly it de- 
serves, for the tree that bore it, until I can dissect one by one 
the properties it has. But I have first to finish as was pro- 
pounded, what is to be thought in general of reading books, 
whatever sort they be, and whether be more the benefit, 
or the harm that thence proceeds ? 

Not to insist upon the examples of Moses, Daniel and Paul, 
who were skilful in all the learning of the Egyptians, Chal- 
deans, and Greeks, which could not probably be without read- 
ing their books of all sorts in Paul especially, who thought 
it no defilement to insert into holy Scripture, the sentences 
of three Greek poets, and one of them a tragedian, the 
question was, notwithstanding sometimes controverted among 
the primitive doctors, but with great odds on that side which 
affirmed it both lawful and profitable, as was then evidently 
perceived, when Julian the Apostate, and subtlest enemy of 
our faith, made a decree forbidding Christians the study of 
heathen learning: for, said he, they wound us with our own 
weapons, and with our own arts and sciences they over- 
come us. And indeed the Christians were put so to their 
shifts by this crafty means, and so much in danger to decline 
into all ignorance, that the two Apollinarii were fain as a 
man may say, to coin all the seven liberal sciences out of the 
Bible, reducing it into divers forms or orations, poems, 
dialogues, even to the calculating of a new Christian gram- 
mar. But saith the historian Socrates, the providence of 
God provided better than the industry of Apollinarius and 
his son, by taking away that illiterate law with the life of 
him who devised it. So great an injury they then held it to 
be deprived of Hellenic learning; and thought it a per- 
secution more undermining, and secretly decaying the church 
"•Raymond Lully, a scientist of the 13th century. ^2 Extract. 



210 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

than the open cruelty of Decius or Dioclesian. And per- 
haps it was the same poHtic drift that the devil whipped St. 
Jerome in a lenten dream, for reading Cicero; or else it was 
a phantasm bred by the fever which had then seis'd^^ him. 
For had an angel been his discipliner, unless it were for 
dwelling too much upon Ciceronianisms, and had chastised 
the reading, not the vanity, it had been plainly partial; first 
to correct him for grave Cicero, and not for scurril Plautus 
whom he confesses to have been reading not long before; 
next to correct him only, and let so many more ancient 
Fathers wax old in those pleasant and florid studies without 
the lash of such a tutoring apparition; insomuch that Basil 
teaches how some good use may be made of Margites a 
sportful poem, not now extant, written by Homer; and why 
not then of Morgante an Italian romance much to the same 
purpose. But if it be agreed we shall be tried by visions, 
there is a vision recorded by Eusebius far ancienter 
than this tale of Jerome to the nun Eustochium, and 
besides has nothing of a fever in it. Dionysius Alexan- 
drinus was about the year 240, a person of great name in 
the Church for piety and learning, who had wont to avail 
himself much against heretics by being conversant in their 
books; until a certain presbyter laid it scrupulously to his 
conscience how he durst venture himself among those^ de- 
filing volumes. The worthy man loath to give offense fell 
into a new debate with himself what was to be thought ; when 
suddenly a vision sent from God, it is his own epistle that 
so avers it, confirmed him in these words : read any books 
what ever come to thy hands, for thou art sufficient both to 
judge aright, and to examine each matter. To this reve- 
lation he assented the sooner, as he confesses, because it 
was answerable to^* that of the Apostle to the Thessalonians, 
prove''' all things, hold fast that which is good. And he might 
have added another remarkable saying of the same author; 
to the pure all things are pure, not only meats and drinks, 
but all kind of knowledge whether of good or evil ; the knowl- 
edge can not defile, nor consequently the books, if the will and 
conscience be not defiled. For books are as meats and viands 
are, some of good, some of evil substance ; and yet God in that 

3» Possessed. ^ Consistent with. ^^ Xest. 



AREOPAGITICA 211 

unapocryphal vision, said without exception rise Peter, kill 
and eat, leaving the choice to each man's discretion. Whole- 
some meats to a vitiated stomach differ little or nothing from 
unwholesome; and best books to a naughty mind are not 
unappliable to occasions of evil. Bad meats will scarce breed 
good nourishment in the healthiest concoction: but herein 
the difference is of bad books, that they to a discreet and 
judicious reader serve in many respects to discover, to con- 
fute, to forewarn, and to illustrate. Whereof what better 
witness can ye expect I should produce, than one of your 
own now sitting in Parliament, the chief of learned men 
reputed in this land, Mr. Selden, whose volume of natural 
and national laws proves, not only by great authorities 
brought together, but by exquisite^^ reasons and theorems 
almost mathematically demonstrative, that all opinions, yea 
errors, known, read, and collated, are of main service and 
assistance toward the speedy attainment of what is truest. 
I conceive therefore, that when God did enlarge the univer- 
sal diet of man's body, saving ever the rules of temperance, 
he then also, as before, left arbitrary the dieting and repast- 
ing of our minds ; as wherein every mature man might have 
to exercise his own leading capacity. How great a virtue 
is temperance, how much of moment through the whole life 
of man? yet God commits the managing so great a trust, 
without particular law or prescription, wholly to the de- 
meanor of every grown man. And therefore when he him- 
self tabled" the Jews from heaven, that omer which was 
every man's daily portion of manna, is computed to have been 
more than might have well sufficed the heartiest feeder thrice 
as many meals. For those actions which enter into a man, 
rather than issue out of him, and therefore defile not, God 
uses not to captivate under a perpetual childhood of pre- 
scription, but trusts him with the gift of reason to be his 
own chooser ; there were but little work left for preaching, if 
law and compulsion [should] grow so fast upon those things 
which heretofore were governed only by exhortation. Solo- 
mon informs us that much reading is a weariness to the flesh; 
but neither he, nor other inspired author, tells us that such 
or such reading is unlawful: yet certainly had God thought 
8« Carefully sought out. 3' Fed. 



212 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

good to limit us herein, it had been much more expedient to 
have told us what was unlawful, than what was wearisome. 
As for the burning of those Ephesian books by St. Paul's con- 
verts, it is replied the books were magic, the Syriac so 
renders them. It was a private act, a voluntary act, and 
leaves us to a voluntary imitation: the men in remorse 
burned those books which were their own ; the Magistrate by 
this example is not appointed : these men practised the books, 
another might perhaps have read them in some sort usefully. 
Good and evil we know in the field of this world grow 
up together almost inseparably; and the knowledge of good 
is so involved and interwoven with the knowledge of evil, 
and in so many cunning resemblances hardly to be dis- 
cerned, that those confused seeds which were imposed on 
Psyche as an incessant labor to cull out, and sort asunder, 
were not more intermixed. It was from out of the rind of 
one apple tasted, that the knowledge of good and evil as 
two twins cleaving together leaped forth into the world. And 
perhaps this is that doom which Adam fell into of knowing 
good and evil, that is to say of knowing good by evil. 
As therefore the state of man now is; what wisdom can 
there be to choose, what continence to forbear without the 
knowledge of evil? He that can apprehend and consider 
vice with all her baits and seeming pleasures, and yet abstain, 
and yet distinguish, and yet prefer that which is truly better, 
he is the true warfaring Christian. I can not praise a fugitive 
and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never 
sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks out of the race, 
where that immortal garland is to be run for, not without 
dust and heat. Assuredly we bring not innocence into the 
world, we bring impurity much rather: that which purifies 
us is trial, and trial is by what is contrary. That virtue 
therefore which is but a youngling in the contemplation of 
evil, and knows not the utmost that vice promises to her fol- 
lowers, and rejects it, is but a blank virtue, not a pure; 
her whiteness is but an excrementaP^ whiteness ; which was 
the reason why our sage and serious poet Spenser, whom 
I dare be known to think a better teacher than Scotus or 
Aquinas, describing true temperance under the person of 

38 External. 



AREOPAGITICA 213 

Guion, brings him in with his palmer through the cave 
of Mammon, and the bower of earthly bliss that he might see 
and know, and yet abstain. Since therefore the knowledge 
and survey of vice is in this world so necessary to the con- 
stituting of human virtue, and the scanning of error to the 
confirmation of truth, how can we more safely, and with 
less danger scout into the regions of sin and falsity than by 
reading all manner of tracts, and hearing all manner of 
reason? And this is the benefit which may be had of books 
promiscuously read. But of the harm that may result hence 
three kinds are usually reckoned. First, is feared the in- 
fection that may vSpread; but then all human learning and 
controversy in religious points must remove out of the world, 
yea the Bible itself; for that ofttimes relates blasphemy not 
nicely,^^ it describes the carnal sense of wicked men not un- 
elegantly,^ it brings in holiest men passionately murmuring 
against Providence through all the arguments of Epicurus: 
in other great disputes it answers dubiously and darkly to 
the common reader : and ask a Talmudist what ails the mod- 
esty of his marginal keri,*^ that Moses and all the Prophets 
can not persuade him to pronounce the textual chetiv.*^ For 
these causes we all know the Bible itself put by the Papist 
into the first rank of prohibited books. The ancientest 
Fathers must be next removed, as Clement of Alexandria, 
and that Eusebian book of evengelic preparation, trans- 
mitting our ears through a hoard of heathenish obscenities 
to receive the Gospel. Who finds not that IrencBus, Epiph- 
anius, Jerome, and others discover more heresies than they 
well confute, and that oft for heresy which is the truer opinion. 
Nor boots it to say for these, and all the heathen writers of 
greatest infection, if it must be thought so, with whom is 
bound up the life of hum,an learning, that they wrote in an 
unknown tongue, so long as we are sure those languages are 
known as well to the worst of men, who are both most 
able, and most diligent to instil the poison they suck, first 
into the courts of princes, acquainting them with the choicest 
delights, and criticisms of sin. As perhaps did that Petronius 
whom Nero called his Arbiter, the master of his revels ; and 

*• Fastidiously. *° Not without elaboration. 

„ _ ^„ *i Comment. ^ Text. 

±10 111 14 



214 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

that notorous ribald of Arezzo^ dreaded, and yet dear to the 
Italian courtiers. I name not him** for posterity's sake, 
whom Harry the Eighth, named in merriment his vicar of 
hell. By which compendious way all the contagion that 
foreign books can infuse, will find a passage to the people 
far easier and shorter than an Indian voyage, though it 
could be sailed either by the north of Cataio^ eastward, or 
of Canada westward, while our Spanish licensing gags the 
English press never so severely. But on the other side 
that infection which is from books of controversy in religion, 
is more doubtful and dangerous to the learned, than to the 
ignorant; and yet those books must be permitted untouched 
by the licenser. It will be hard to instance where any 
ignorant man hath been ever seduced by Papistical book in 
English, unless it were commended and expounded to him by 
some of that clergy: and indeed all such tracts whether 
false or true are as the Prophecy of Isaiah was to the 
Eunuch, not to be understood without a guide. But of our 
priests and doctors how many have been corrupted by study- 
ing the comments of Jesuits and Sorbonnists/^ and how they 
could transfuse that corruption into the people, our experi- 
ence is both late and sad. It is not forgot, since the acute and 
distinct*^ Arminius was perverted merely by the perusing of 
a nameless discourse written at Delft, which at first he took 
in hand to confute. Seeing therefore that those books, and 
those in great abundance which are likeliest to taint both 
life and doctrine, can not be suppressed without the fall of 
learning, and of all ability in disputation, and that these 
books of either sort are most and soonest catching to the 
learned, from whom to the common people whatever is 
heretical or dissolute may quickly be conveyed, and that evil 
manners are as perfectly learned without books a thousand 
other ways which can not be stopped, and evil doctrine not 
with books can propagate, except a teacher guide, which he 
might also do without writing, and so beyond prohibiting, 
I am not able to unfold, how this cautelous*^ enterprise of 
licensing can be exempted from the number of vain and 
impossible attempts. And he who were pleasantly disposed, 

« Aretino. ** Probably the poet Skelton. *^ Cathay, in Tartary. 

*^ From the theological college of the Sorbonne, in Paris. 
*' Clear-thinking. *^ Tricky, deceptive. 



AREOPAGITICA 215 

could not well avoid to liken it to the exploit of that gallant 
man who thought to pound up the crows by shutting his 
park gate. Besides another inconvenience, if learned men 
be the first receivers out of books and dispreaders both of 
vice and error, how shall the licensers themselves be confided 
in, unless we confer upon them, or they assume to them- 
selves above all others in the land, the grace of infallibility, 
and uncorruptedness ? And again if it be true, that a wise 
man like a good refiner can gather gold out of the drossiest 
volume, and that a fool will be a fool with the best book, 
yea or without book, there is no reason that we should de- 
prive a wise man of any advantage to his wisdom, while 
we seek to restrain from a fool that which being restrained 
will be no hindrance to his folly. For if there should be so 
much exactness always used to keep that from him which 
is unfit for his reading, we should in judgment of Aristotle 
not only, but of Solomon, and of our Saviour, not vouchsafe 
him good precepts, and by consequence not willingly admit 
him to good books, as being certain that a wise man will make 
better use of an idle pamphlet, than a fool will do of sacred 
Scripture. It is next alleged we must not expose ourselves 
to temptations without necessity, and next to that, not employ 
our time in vain things. To both these objections one answer 
will serve, out of the grounds already laid, that to all men 
such books are not temptations, nor vanities; but useful 
drugs and materials wherewith to temper and compose ef- 
fective and strong medicines, which man's life can not want.^ 
The rest, as children and childish men, who have not the 
art to qualify and prepare these working minerals, well may 
be exhorted to forbear, but hindered forcibly they can not 
be by all the licensing that sainted inquisition could ever 
yet contrive; which is what I promised to deliver next, that 
this order of licensing conduces nothing to the end for 
which it was framed: and hath almost prevented^" me by 
being clear already while thus much hath been explaining. 
See the ingenuity^^ of truth, who when she gets a free and 
willing hand, opens herself faster, than the pace of method 
and discourses can overtake her. It was the task which 
I began with, to show that no nation, or well instituted 

^ Do without. ^ Anticipated. ^^ Ingenuousness, frankness. 



216 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

state, if they valued books at all, did ever use this way 
of licensing; and it might be answered, that this is a piece 
of prudence lately discovered, to which I return, that as it 
was a thing slight and obvious to think on, for if it had been 
difficult to find out, there wanted not among them long since, 
who suggested such a course ; which they not following, leave 
us a pattern of their judgment, that it was not the not 
knowing, but the not approving, which was the caUse of 
their not using it. Plato, a. man of high authority indeed, 
but least of all for his Commonwealth, in the book of his 
laws, which no city ever received, fed his fancy with 
making many edicts to his airy^'" burgomasters, which they 
who otherwise admire him, wish had been rather buried 
and excused in the genial cups of an academic night-sitting. 
By which laws he seems to tolerate no kind of learning, 
but by unalterable decree, consisting most of practical' 
traditions, to the attainment whereof a library of smaller 
bulk than his own dialogues would be abundant. And 
there also enacts that no poet should so much as read to 
any private man, what he had written, until the judges and 
lawkeepers had seen it, and allowed it : but that Plato meant 
this law peculiarly to that Commonwealth which he had im- 
agined, and to no other, is evident. Why was he not else 
a law-giver to himself, but a transgressor, and to be ex- 
pelled by his own magistrates, both for the wanton epigrams 
and dialogues which he made, and his perpetual reading 
of Sophron Mimus, and Aristophanes, books of grossest in- 
famy, and also for commending the latter of them though 
he were the malicious libeller of his chief friends,^^ to be 
read by the tyrant Dionysius, who had little need of such 
trash to spend his time on? But that he knew this licensing 
of poems had reference and dependence to many other 
provisos there set down in his fancied republic, which 
in this world could have no place: and so neither he him- 
self, nor any magistrate, or city ever imitated that course, 
which taken apart from those other collateral injunctions 
must needs be vain and fruitless. For if they fell upon^* one 
kind of strictness, unless their care were equal to regulate 
all other things of like aptness to corrupt the mind, that single 

58 Imaginary. ^ E. g., of Socrates, " Adopted vigorously. 



AREOPAGITICA 217 



• 



endeavor they knew would be but a fond labor; to shut and 
fortify one gate against corruption, and be necessitated to 
leave others round about wide open. If we think to regulate 
printing, thereby to rectify manners, we must regulate all 
recreations and pastimes, all that is delightful to man. No 
music must be heard, no song be set or sung, but what is 
grave and Doric. There must be licensing dancers, that 
no gesture, motion, or deportment be taught our youth but 
what by their allowance shall be thought honest; for such 
Plato was provided of; it will ask more than the work of 
twenty licensers. to examine all the lutes, the violins, and the 
guitars in every house; they must not be suffered to prattle 
as they do, but must be licensed what they may say. 
And who shall silence all the aif s and madrigals, that whisper 
softness in chambers? The windows also, and the balconies 
must be thought on, there are shrewd^ books, with dangerous 
frontispieces set to sale ; who shall prohibit them, shall twenty 
licensers? The villages also must have their visitors to 
inquire what lectures the bagpipe and the rebbeck^® reads 
even to the balladry, and the gamut of every municipal 
fiddler, for these are the countryman's Arcadias^'' and his 
Monte Mayors.^'' Next, what more national corruption, for 
which England hears ilP abroad, then household gluttony; 
who shall be the rectors^ of our daily rioting ? and what shall 
be done to inhibit the multitudes that frequent those houses 
where drunkenness is sold and harbored? Our garments 
also should be referred to the licensing of some more 
sober work-masters to see them cut into a less wanton 
garb. Who shall regulate all the mixed conversation®" of 
our youth, male and female together, as is the fashion of 
this country, who shall still appoint what shall be dis- 
coursed, what presumed, and no further? Lastly, who shall 
forbid and separate all idle resort, all evil company? These 
things will be, and must be; but how they shall be less 
hurtful, how less enticing, herein consists the grave and 
governing wisdom of a State. To sequester out of the world 
into Atlantic, and Utopian polities,®^ which never can be 

^Wicked. ^^ Fiddle. ^'^ Popular novels of the isth century. 

•* Is ill-spoken of. ^^ Governors. ^o Intercourse. 

•"• /. e., into imaginary commonwealths, like Bacon's " New Atlantis " and 
Mere's " Utopia." 



218 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

drawn into use, will not mend our condition; but to 
ordain wisely as in this world of evil, in the midst whereof 
God hath placed us unavoidably. Nor is it Plato's licensing 
of books will do this, which necessarily pulls along with it 
so many other kinds of licensing, as will make us all both 
ridiculous and weary, and yet frustrate; but those unwrit- 
ten, or at least unconstraining laws of virtuous education, 
religious and civil nurture, which Plato there mentions, as 
the bonds and ligam.ents of the Commonwealth, the pillars 
and the sustainers of every written statute; these they be 
which will bear chief sway in such matters as these, when 
all licensing will be easily eluded. Impunity and remissness, 
for certain are the bane of a Commonwealth, but here the 
great art lies to discern in what the law is to bid restraint 
and punishment, and in what things persuasion only is to 
work. If every action which is good, or evil in man at 
ripe years, were to be under pittance, and prescription, 
and compulsion, what were virtue but a name, what praise 
could be then due to well-doing, what grammercy"" to be 
sober, just, or continent? many there be that complain of 
divine providence for suffering Adam to transgress, foolish 
tongues ! when God gave him reason, he gave him freedom 
to choose, for reason is but choosing; he had been else a 
mere artificial Adam, such an Adam as he is in the mo- 
tions.*^ We ourselves esteem not of that obedience, or 
love, or gift, which is of force; God therefore left him free, 
set before him a provoking object, ever almost in his eyes 
herein consisted his merit, herein the right of his reward, 
the praise of his abstinence. Wherefore did he create pas- 
sions within us, pleasures round about us, but that these 
rightly tempered are the very ingredients of virtue? They 
are not skilful considerers of human things, who imagine 
to remove sin by removing the matter of sin; for, besides 
that it is a huge heap increasing under the very act of dimin- 
ishing though some part of it may for a time be with- 
drawn from some persons, it can not from all, in such a uni- 
versal thing as books are; and when this is done, yet the 
sin remains entire. Though ye take from a covetous man 
all his treasure he has yet one jewel left, ye can not be- 

" Great thanks. ^ Puppet shows. 



AREOPAGITICA 219 

reave him of his covetousness. Banish all objects of lust, 
shut up all youth into the severest discipline that can be 
exercised in any hermitage, ye can not make them chaste, 
that came not thither so; such great care and wisdom is 
required to the right managing of this point. Suppose we 
could expel sin by this means ; look how much we thus expel 
of sin, so much we expel of virtue: for the matter of them 
both is the same; remove that, and ye remove them both 
alike. This justifies the high providence 0"^ God, who 
though he command us temperance, justice, continence, yet 
pours out before us even to a profuseness all desirable 
things, and gives us minds that can wander beyond all limit 
and satiety. Why should we then effect a rigor contrary 
to the manner of God and of nature, by abridging or scant- 
ing those means, which books freely permitted are, both to 
the trial of virtue, and the exercise of truth. It would be 
better done to learn that the law must needs be frivolous 
which goes to restrain things, uncertainly and yet equally 
working to good, and to evil. And were I the chooser, 
a dram of well-doing should be preferred before many 
times as much the forcible hindrance of evil-doing.^ For 
God sure esteems the growth and completing of one virtuous 
person, more than the restraint of ten vicious. And albeit 
whatever thing we hear or see, sitting, walking, traveling, 
or conversing may be fitly called our book, and is of the 
same effect that writings are, yet grant the thing to be pro- 
hibited were only books, it appears that this order hitherto 
is far insufficient to the end which it intends. Do we not 
see, not once or oftener, but weekly that continued court- 
libel^* against the Parliament and city, printed, as the wet 
sheets can witness, and dispersed among us for all that 
licensing can do? yet this is the prime service a man would 
think, wherein this order should give proof of itself. If 
it were executed, you'll say. But certain, if execution be 
remiss or blindfold now, and in this particular, what will it 
be hereafter, and in other books. If then the order shall 
not be vain and frustrate, behold a new labor, Lords and 
Commons, ye must repeal and proscribe all scandalous and 
unlicensed books already printed and divulged®^: after ye 

"* " Mercurius Aulicus," a royalist journal. ^^ Published. 



220 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

have drawn them up into a list, that all may know which are 
condemned, and which not ; and ordain that no foreign books 
be delivered out of custody, till they have been read over. 
This office will require the whole time of not a few over- 
seers, and those no vulgar®^ men. There be also books which 
are partly useful and excellent, partly culpable and per- 
nicious; this work will ask as many more officials to make 
expurgations and expunctions,^^ that the commonwealth of 
learning be hot damnified.®^ In fine, when the multitude of 
books increase upon their hands, ye must be fain to* cata- 
logue all those printers who are found frequently offending, 
and forbid the importation of their whole suspected typog- 
raphy. In a word, that this order may be exact, and not de- 
ficient, ye must reform it perfectly according to the model of 
Trenf^ and Seville,''^ which I know ye abhor to do. Yet 
though ye should condescend to this, which God forbid, the 
order still would be but fruitless and defective to that end 
whereto ye meant it. If to prevent sects and schisms, who 
is so unread or so uncatechised in story, that hath not heard 
of many sects refusing books as a hindrance, and pre- 
serving their doctrine unmixed for many ages, only by un- 
written traditions. The Christian faith, for that was once 
a schism, is not unknown to have spread all over Asia, ere 
any Gospel or Epistle was seen in writing. If the amend- 
ment of manners be aimed at, look into Italy and Spain, 
whether those places be one scruple the better, the more 
honest, the wiser, the chaster, since all the inquisitional rigor 
that hath been executed upon books. 

Another reason, whereby to make it plain that this order 
will miss the end it seeks, consider by the quality which 
ought to be in every licenser. It can not be denied but that 
he who is made judge to sit upon the birth, or death of 
books whether they may be wafted into this world, or not, 
had need to be a nian above the common measure, both stu- 
dious, learned, and judicious; there may be else no mean 
mistakes in the censure of what is passable or not; which is 
also no mean injury. If he be of such worth as behooves 
him, there can not be a more tedious and unpleasing journey- 

•« Ordinary. «' Omissions. ^ Injured. ^ Council of Trent. 
'0 Headquarters of the Spanish Inquisition. 



AREOPAGITICA 221 

work, a greater loss of times levied upon his head, than to 
be made the perpetual reader of unchosen books and pam- 
phlets ofttimes huge volumes. There is no book that is 
acceptable unless at certain seasons; but to be enjoined the 
reading of that at all times, and in a hand scarce legible, 
whereof three pages would not down at any time in the fair- 
est print, is an imposition which I can not believe how he 
that values time, and his own studies, or is but of a sensible 
nostril should be able to endure. In this one thing I crave 
leave of the present licensers to be pardoned for so thinking : 
who doubtless took this office up, looking on it through their 
obedience to the Parliament, whose command perhaps made 
all things seem easy and unlaborious to them; but that this 
short trial hath wearied them out already, their own ex- 
pressions and excuses to them who make so many journeys 
to solicit their license, are testimony enough. Seeing there- 
fore those who now possess the employment, by all evident 
signs with themselves well rid of it, and that no man of 
worth, none that is not a plain unthrift of his own hours is 
ever likely to succeed them, except he mean to put himself 
to the salary of a press-corrector, we may easily foresee what 
kind of licensers we are to expect hereafter, either ignorant, 
imperious, and remiss, or basely pecuniary. This is what 
I had to show wherein this order can not conduce to that 
end, whereof it bears the intention. 

I lastly proceeded from the no good it can do, to the mani- 
fest hurt it causes, in being first the greatest discouragement 
and affront that can be offered to learning and to learned 
men. It was the complaint and lamentation of prelates, upon 
every least breath of a motion to remove pluralities,''^ and 
distribute more equally church revenues, that then all learn- 
ing would be forever dashed and discouraged. But as for 
that opinion, I never found cause to think that the tenth 
part of learning stood or fell with the clergy: nor could I 
ever but hold it for a sordid and unworthy speech of any 
churchman who had a competency left him. If therefore 
ye be loath to dishearten utterly and discontent, not the 
mercenary crew of false pretenders to learning, but the 

■"• The holding of several livings by one clergyman had been a chief cause 
of complaint against the Episcopal Church. 



222 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

free and ingenious sort of such as evidently were born to 
study, and love learning for itself, not for lucre, or any other 
end, but the service of God and of truth, and perhaps that 
lasting fame and perpetuity of praise which God and good 
men have consented shall be the reward of those whose 
published labors advance the good of mankind, then know, 
that so far to distrust the judgment and the honesty of one 
who hath but a common repute in learning, and never yet 
offended, as not to count him fit to print his mind without 
a tutor and examiner, lest he should drop a schism, or some- 
thing of corruption, is the greatest displeasure and indignity 
to a free and knowing spirit that can be put upon him. What 
advantage is it to be a man over it is to be a boy at school, 
if we have only escaped the ferular,^^ to come under the fescu^^ 
of an Imprimatur f if serious and elaborate writings, as if 
they were no more than the theme of a grammar lad under 
his pedagogue must not be uttered'^ without the cursory eyes 
of a temporizing and extemporizing licenser. He who is not 
trusted with his own actions, his drift not being known to be 
evil, and standing to the hazard of law and penalty, has no 
great argument to think of himself reputed in the common- 
wealth wherein he was bom, for other than a fool or a for- 
eigner. When a man writes to the world, he summons up all 
his reason, and deliberation to assist him; he searches, medi- 
tates, is industrious, and likely consults and confers with his 
judicious friends; after all which done he takes himself to be 
informed in what he writes, as well as any that wrote before 
him ; if in this the most consummate act of his fidelity and 
ripeness, no years, no industry, no former proof of his 
abilities can bring him to that state of maturity, as not to be 
still mistrusted and suspected, unless he carry all his con- 
siderate diligence, all his midnight watchings, and expense 
of Palladian^* oil, to the hasty view of an unleisured licenser, 
perhaps much his younger, perhaps far his inferior in judg- 
ment, perhaps one who never knew the labor of book-writing, 
and if he be not repulsed, or slighted, must appear in print 
like , a puny'^ with his guardian, and his censor's hand on 
the back of his title to be his bail and surety, that he is no 
idiot, or seducer, it can not be but a dishonor and derogation 

T2Rod. '^'Published. '* From Pallas, goddess of learning. tb Minor. 



AREOPAGITICA 223 

to the author, to the book, to the privilege and dignity of 
learning. And what if the author shall be one so copious 
of fancy, as to have many things well worth the adding, 
come into his mind after licensing, while the book is yet 
under the press, which not seldom happens to the best and 
most diligent writers; and that perhaps a dozen times in 
one book. The printer dares not go beyond his Hcensed 
copy; so often then must the author trudge to his leave- 
giver, that those his new insertions may be viewed; and 
many a jaunt will be made, ere that licenser, for it must be 
the same man, can either be found, or found at leisure; 
meanwhile either the press must stand still, which is no small 
damage, or the author lose his most accurate thoughts, and 
send the book forth worse than he had made it, which to 
a diligent writer is the greatest melancholy and vexation 
that can befall. And how can a man teach with authority, 
which is the life of teaching, how can he be a doctor in his 
book as he ought to be, or else had better be silent, whenas 
all he teaches, all he delivers, is but under the tuition, under 
the correction of his patriarchal licenser to blot or alter 
what precisely accords not with the hidebound humor which 
he calls his judgment? When every acute reader upon the 
first sight of a pedantic license, will be ready with these like 
words to ding^^ the book a quoit's distance from him : " I 
hate a pupil teacher, I endure not an instructor that comes 
to me under the wardship of an overseeing fist. I know 
nothing of the licenser, but that I have his own hand here 
for his arrogance; who shall warrant me his judgment?" 
" The State, sir," repHes the Stationer, but has a quick re- 
turn : " The State shall be my governors, but not my critics ; 
they may be mistaken in the choice of a licenser, as easily 
as this licenser may be mistaken in an author: this is some 
common stuff;" and he might add from Sir Francis Bacon, 
That such authorised books are hut the language of the times. 
For though a licenser should happen to be judicious more 
than ordinarily, which will be a great jeopardy of the next 
succession, yet his very office, and his commission enjoins 
him to let pass nothing but what is vulgarly received already. 
Nay, which is more lamentable, if the work of any deceased 

™ Throw violently. 



224 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

author, though never so famous in his lifetime, and even 
to this day, come to their hands for Hcense to be printed, 
or reprinted, if there be found in his book one sentence of 
a venturous edge, uttered in the height of zeal, and who 
knows whether it might not be the dictate of a divine spirit, 
yet not suiting with every low decrepit humor of their own, 
though it were Knox himself, the reformer of a kingdom that 
spake it, they will not pardon him their dash," the sense 
of that great man shall to all posterity be lost, for the fear- 
fulness, or the presumptuous rashness of a perfunctory 
licenser. And to what an author this violence hath been 
lately done, and in what book of greatest consequence to 
be faithfully published, I could now instance, but shall for- 
bear till a more convenient season. Yet if these things be 
not resented seriously and timely by them who have the 
remedy in their power, but that such iron molds'^ as these 
shall have authority to gnaw out the choicest periods of the 
most exquisite books, and to commit such a treacherous fraud 
against the orphan remainders of worthiest men after death, 
the more sorrow will jelong to that hapless race of men, 
whose misfortune it is to have understanding. Henceforth 
let no man care to learn, or care to be more than worldly 
wise; for certainly in higher matters to be ignorant and 
slothful, to be a common steadfast dunce will be the only 
pleasant life, and only in request. 

And as it is a particular disesteem of every knowing per- 
son alive, and most* injurious to the written labors and 
monuments of the dead, so to me it seems an undervaluing 
and vilifying'^" of the whole nation. I can not set so light 
by all the invention, the art, the wit, the grave and solid 
judgment which is in England, as that it can be compre- 
hended in any twenty capacities how good soever, much less 
that it should not pass except their superintendence be over 
it, except it be sifted and strained with their strainers, that 
it should be uncurrent without their manual stamp. Truth 
and understanding are not such wares as to be monopolized 
and traded in by tickets^" and statutes, and standards. We 
must not think to make a staple commodity of all the knowl- 
edge in the land, to mark and license it like our broadcloth, 

" Spare to blot it out. '» R^st. ™ Cheapening. so Receipts. 



AREOPAGITICA 225 

and our wool packs. What is it but a servitude like that im- 
posed by the Philistines, not to be allowed the sharpening 
of our own axes and coulters, but we must repair from all 
quarters to twenty licensing forges. Had any one written 
and divulged erroneous things and scandalous to honest life, 
misusing and forfeiting the esteem had of his reason among 
men, if after conviction this only censure were adjudged 
him, that he should never henceforth write, but what were 
first examined by an appointed officer whose hand should 
be annexed to pass his credit for him, that now he might 
be safely read, it could not be apprehended less than a 
disgraceful punishment. Whence to include the whole 
nation, and those that never yet thus offended, under such 
a diffident^ and suspectful prohibition, may plainly be un- 
derstood what a disparagement it is. So much the more, 
when as debtors and delinquents may walk abroad without 
a keeper, but unoffensive books must not stir forth without 
a visible jailer in their title. Nor is it to the common people 
less than a reproach ; for if we be so jealous over^^ them, as 
that we dare not trust them with an English pamphlet, what 
do we but censure them for a giddy, vicious, and ungrounded 
people; in such a sick and weak estate of faith and discre- 
tion, as to be able to take nothing down but through the 
pipe of a licenser. That this is care or love of them, we 
can not pretend, whereas in those popish places where the 
laity are most hated and despised the same strictness is used 
over them. Wisdom we can not call it, because it stops 
but one breach of license, nor that neither; whereas those 
corruptions which it seeks to prevent, break in faster at 
other doors which can not be shut. 

And in conclusion it reflects to the disrepute of our min- 
isters also, of whose labors we should hope better, and of 
the proficiency which their flock reaps by them, than that 
after all this light of the Gospel which is, and is to be, and 
all this continual preaching, they should be still frequented 
with such an unprincipled, unedified, and laick^ rabble, as 
that the whiff of every new pamphlet should stagger them out 
of their catechism, and Christian walking. This may have 
much reason to discourage the ministers when such a low 

81 Distrusting. 82 Suspect. ^ Ignorant. 



226 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

conceit is had of all their exhortations, and the benefiting 
of their hearers, as that they are not thought fit to be turned 
loose to three sheets of paper without a licenser, that all the 
sermons, all the lectures preached, printed, vented in such 
numbers, and such volumes, as have now well-nigh made 
all other books unsalable, should not be armor enough 
against one single enchiridion,^ without the castle St. 
Angela^ of an Imprimatur. 

And lest some should persuade ye. Lord and Commons, 
that these arguments of learned men's discouragement at 
this your order, are mere flourishes, and not real, I could 
recount what I have seen and heard in other countries, 
where this kind of inquisition tyrannizes; when I have sat 
among their learned men, for that honor I had, and been 
counted happy to be born in such a place of Philosophic 
freedom, as they supposed England was, while themselves 
did nothing but bemoan the servile condition into which 
learning amongst them was brought; that this was it which 
had damped the glory of Italian wits ; that nothing had been 
there written now these many years but flattery and fustian. 
There it was that I found and visited the famous Galileo 
grown old, a prisoner to the Inquisition, for thinking in 
astronomy, otherwise than the Franciscan and Dominican 
licensers thought. And though I knew that England, then 
was groaning loudest under the prelatical yoke, nevertheless 
I took it as a pledge of future happiness, that other nations 
were so persuaded of her liberty. Yet was it beyond my 
hope that those worthies were then breathing in her air, 
who should be her leaders to such a deliverance, as shall 
never be forgotten by any revolution of time that this world 
hath to finish. When that was once begun, it was as little 
in my fear, that what words of complaint I heard among 
learned men of other parts uttered against the Inquisition, 
the same I should hear by as learned men at home uttered 
in time of Parliament against an order of licensing ; and that 
so generally, that when I disclosed myself a companion of 
their discontent, I might say, if without envy, that he®* whom 
an honest qucestorship had endeared to the Sicilians, was 

** A pun on the two meanings of dagger and hand-book. 
85 The Pope's fortress. «« Cicero. 



II 



AREOPAGITICA 227 

not more by them importuned against Verres, than the 
favorable opinion which I had among many who honor 
ye, and are known and respected by ye, loaded me with 
entreaties and persuasions, that I would not despair to lay 
together that which just reason should bring into my mind, 
toward the removel of an undeserved thraldom upon learn- 
ing. That this is not therefore the disburdening of a par- 
ticular fancy, but the common grievance of all those who 
had prepared their minds and studies above the vulgar pitch 
to advance truth in others, and from others to entertain it, 
thus much may satisfy. And in their name I shall for neither 
friend nor foe conceal what the general murmur is; that if 
it come to inquisitioning again, and licensing, and that we 
are so timorous of ourselves, and so suspicious of all men, 
as to fear each book, and the shaking of every leaf, before 
we know w^hat the contents are, if some who but of late 
were little better than silenced from preaching, shall come 
now to silence us from reading, except what they please, it 
can not be guessed what is intended by some but a second 
tyranny over learning: and will soon put it out of con- 
troversy that bishops and presbyters are the same to us 
both name and thing. That those evils of prelacy which 
before from five or six and twenty sees were distributively 
charged upon the whole people, will now light wholly upon 
learning, is not obscure to us: whereas now the pastor of 
a small unlearned parish, on the sudden shall be exalted 
archbishop over a large diocese of books, and yet not re- 
move, but keep his other cure too, a mystical pluralist. He 
who but of late cried down the sole ordination of every 
novice bachelor of art, and denied sole jurisdiction over the 
simplest parishioner, shall now at home in his private chair 
assume both these over worthiest and most excellent books 
and ablest authors that write them. This is not, ye covenants 
and protestations that we have made, this is not to put down 
prelaty, this is but to chop^' an episcopacy, this is but 
to translate the palace Metropolitan from one kind of domin- 
ion into another, this is but an old canonical sleight^ of 
commuting our penance.^ To startle thus betimes at a mere 

^ Exchange. ^ Trick allowed by the canon law. 

* Exchanging one kind of penance for another. 



228 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

unlicensed pamphlet will after a while be afraid of every 
conventicle,"*' and a while after will make a conventicle of 
every Christian meeting. But I am certain that a state gov- 
erned by the rules of justice and fortitude, or a church built 
and founded upon the rock of faith and true knowledge, 
can not be so pusillanimous. While things are yet not con- 
stituted in religion, that freedom of writing should be re- 
strained by a discipline imitated from the prelates, and 
learned by them from the Inquisition to shut us up all 
again into the breast of a licenser, must needs give cause 
of doubt and discouragement to all learned and religious 
men. 

Who can not but discern the fineness of this politic drift, 
and who are the contrivers; that while bishops were to be 
baited^^ down, then all presses might be open; it was the 
people's birthright and privilege in time of Parliament, it 
was the breaking forth of light. But now the bishops abro- 
gated and voided out^^ of the church, as if our Reformation 
sought no more, but to make room for others into their seats 
under another name, the episcopal arts begin to bud again, 
the cruse of truth must run no more oil, liberty of printing 
must be enthralled again under a prelatical commission of 
twenty, the privilege of the people nullified, and which is 
worse, the freedom of learning must groan again and to 
her old fetters ; all this the Parliament yet sitting. Although 
their own late arguments and defenses against the prelates 
might remember them that this obstructing violence meets 
for the most part with an event utterly opposite to the end 
which it drives at: instead of suppressing sects and schisms, 
it raises them and invests them with a reputation: The 
punishing of wits enhances their authority," saith the Vis- 
count St. Albans, ''and a forbidden writing is thought to 
be a certain spark of truth that Hies up in the faces of them 
who seek to tread it out." This order therefore may prove 
a nursing mother to sects, but I shall easily show how it 
will be a step-dame to truth: and first by disenabling us to 
the maintenance of what is known already. 

Well knows he who uses to consider, that our faith and 
knowledge thrives by exercise, as well as our limbs and com- 

»o Non-conformist assembly. ^i Worried (as by dogs). ^^ Abolished. 



AREOPAGITICA 229 

plexion."^ Truth is compared in Scripture to a streaming 
fountain; if her waters flow not in a perpetual progression, 
they sicken into a muddy pool of conformity and tradition. 
A man may be a heretic in the truth ; and if he believe things 
only because his pastor says so, or the Assembly so de- 
termines, without knowing other reason, though his belief 
be true, yet the very truth he holds, becomes his heresy. 
There is not any burden that some would gladder post off to 
another, than the charge and care of their religion. There 
be, who knows not that there be of Protestants and pro- 
fessors^ who live and die in as errant and implicit°^ faith, 
as any lay Papist or Loretto.^^ A wealthy man addicted to 
his pleasure and to his profits, finds religion to be a traffic 
so entangled, and of so many piddHng^'^ accounts, that of all 
mysteries"^ he can not skiir" to keep a stock going upon that 
trade. What should he do? fain he would have the name to 
be religious, fain he would bear up with his neighbors in 
that. What does he therefore, but resolves to give over 
toiling, and to find himself out some factor,^"" to whose care 
and credit he may commit the whole managing of his re- 
ligious affairs ; some divine of note and estimation that must 
be. To him he adheres, resigns the whole warehouse of his 
religion, with all the locks and keys into his custody; and 
indeed makes the very person of that man his religion; es- 
teems his associating with him a sufficient evidence and com- 
mendatory of his own piety. So that a man may say his re- 
Hgion is now no more within himself, but is become an 
individual"^ movable, and goes and comes near him, accord- 
ing as that good man frequents the house. He entertains 
him, gives him gifts, feasts him, lodges him; his religion 
comes home at night, prays, is liberally supped, and sump- 
tuously laid to sleep, rises, is saluted, and after the malmsey ,^°^ 
or some well spiced bruage,"^ and better breakfasted than he 
whose morning appetite would have gladly fed on green figs 
between Bethany and Jerusalem, his religion walks abroad 
at eight, and leaves his kind entertainer in the shop trading 
all day without his religion. 

Another sort there be who when they hear that all things 

®3 Constitution. ^* Puritans. ^= Taken on trust. ^® A famous place of 

pilgrimage in central Italy. ®^ Petty. ^^ Trades. »^ Manage, i^o Agent. 

^^^ Separable. ^^^ The morning draft of wine. ^^^ Ale, or other drink. 

HCIII 15 



230 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

shall be ordered, all things regulated and settled; nothing 
written but what passes through the custom-house of certain 
publicans^"* that have the tunaging and the poundaging^°° of all 
free spoken truth, will straight give themselves up into your 
hands, make them and cut them out what religion ye please; 
there be delights, there be recreations and jolly pastimes that 
will fetch the day about from sun to sun, and rock the tedious 
year as in a delightful dream. What"^ need they torture 
their heads with that which others have taken so strictly, and 
so unalterably into their own purveying? These are the 
fruits which a dull ease and cessation of our knowledge will 
bring forth among the people. How goodly, and how to be 
wished were such an obedient unanimity as this, what a fine 
conformity would it starch us all into ? Doubtless a staunch 
and soHd piece of framework, as any January could freeze 
together. 

Nor much better will be the consequence even among the 
clergy themselves ; it is no new thing never heard of before, 
for a parochial minister, who has his reward, and is at his 
Hercules pillars^"^ in a warm benefice, to be easily inclin- 
able, if he have nothing else that may rouse up his studies, 
to finish his circuit^"^ in an English concordance and a topic 
folio,^^ the gatherings and savings of a sober graduateship, 
a Harmony^^^ and a Catena^^'^ treading the constant round of 
certain common doctrinal heads, attending with their uses, 
motives, marks and means, out of which as out of an alpha- 
bet or sol fa by forming and transforming, joining and dis- 
joining variously a little book-craft, and two hours medita- 
tion might furnish him unspeakably to the performance of 
more than a weekly charge of sermoning: not to reckon up 
the infinite helps of interlinearies,^^^ breviaries,"^ synopses,''''^ 
and other loitering gear.^" But as for the multitude of 
sermons ready printed and piled up, on every text that is 
not difficult, our London trading St. Thomas in his vestry, 
and add to boot St. Martin and St. Hugh, have not within 
their hallowed limits more vendible ware of all sorts ready 

10* Tax-collectors. los a reference to the illegal tax levied by Charles I. 

106 Why. 107 Limit of his ambition, as the Straits of Gibraltar were 

the limits of the ancient world. "8 j. ^.^ of studies. lo^ Commonplace 

book. 110 E. g., of the Gospels. m Chain or list of authorities. 

11^ Translations. ^^ Abridgments. "* Lazy man's apparatus. 



AREOPAGITICA 231 

made:"^ so that penury he never need fear of pulpit pro- 
vision, having where so plenteously to refresh his magazine. 
But if his rear and flanks be not impaled/^*' if his back door 
be not secured by the rigid Hcenser, but that a bold book 
may now and then issue forth, and give the assault to some 
of his old collections in their trenches, it will concern him 
then to keep waking, to stand in watch, to set good guards 
and sentinels about his received opinions, to walk the round 
and counter-round with his fellow inspectors, fearing lest 
any of his flock be seduced, who also then would be better 
instructed, better exercised and disciplined. And God send 
that the fear of this diligence which must then be used, do 
not make us affect the laziness of a licensing church. 

For if we be sure we are in the right, and do not hold the 
truth guiltily, which becomes not, if we ourselves condemn 
not our own weak and frivolous teaching, and the people for 
an untaught and irreHgious gadding rout, what can be more 
fair, than when a man judicious, learned, and of a con- 
science, for aught we know, as good as theirs that taught 
us what we know, shall not privily from house to house, 
which is more dangerous, but openly by writing publish to 
the world what his opinion is, what his reasons, and where- 
fore that which is now thought can not be sound. Christ 
urged it as wherewith to justify himself, that he preached 
in public; yet writing is more public than preaching; and 
more easy to refutation, if need be, there being so many 
whose business and profession merely it is, to be the cham- 
pions of truth; which if they neglect, what can be imputed 
but their sloth, or inability? 

Thus much we are hindered and disinured"^ by this course 
of licensing toward the true knowledge of what we seem to 
know. For how much it hurts and hinders the licensers 
themselves in the calling of their ministry, more than any 
secular employment, if they will discharge that office as they 
ought, so that of necessity they must neglect either the one 
duty or the other, I insist not, because it is a particular, but 
leave it to their own conscience, how they will decide it 
there. 

"^^ " I. e., our largest and busiest marts are as well stocked with sermons 
as with any other ware whatever." — Hales. ^^ Palisaded. 
"^"^ Put out of practise. 



232 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

There is yet behind of what I purposed to lay open, the 
incredible loss, and detriment that this plot of Hcensing puts 
us to, more than if some enemy at sea should stop up all 
our havens and ports, and creeks, it hinders and retards the 
importation of our richest merchandise, truth; nay it was 
first estabhshed and put into practise by antichristian mahce 
and mystery^^ on set purpose to extinguish, if it were pos- 
sible, the light of Reformation, and to settle falsehood; little 
differing from that policy wherewith the Turk upholds his 
Alcoran, by the prohibition of printing. 'Tis not denied, 
but gladly confessed, we are to send our thanks and vows to 
heaven, louder than most of nations, for that great measure 
of truth which we enjoy, especially in those main points be- 
tween us and the pope, with his appurtenances the prelates : 
but he who thinks we are to pitch our tent here, and have 
attained the utmost prospect of reformation, that the mortal 
glass wherein we contemplate, can show us, till we come to 
beatific vision, that man by this very opinion declares, that 
he is yet far short of truth. 

Truth indeed came once into the world with her divine 
master, and was a perfect shape most glorious to look on : 
but when he ascended, and his apostles after him were laid 
asleep, then straight arose a wicked race of deceivers, who as 
that story goes of the Egyptian Typhon with his conspira- 
tors, how they dealt with the good Osiris, took the virgin 
Truth, hewed her lovely form into a thousand pieces, and 
scattered them to the four winds. From that time ever 
since, the sad friends of Truth, such as dare appear, imi- 
tating the careful search that Isis made for the mangled 
body of Osiris, went up and down gathering up limb by limb 
still as they could find them. We have not yet found them 
all. Lords and Commons, nor ever shall do, till her Master's 
second coming; he shall bring together every joint and mem- 
ber, and shall mold them into an immortal feature of loveh- 
ness and perfection. Suffer not these licensing prohibitions 
to stand at every place of opportunity forbidding and dis- 
turbing them that continue seeking, that continue to do our 
obsequies to the torn body of our martyred saint. We boast 
our light; but if we look not wisely on the sun itself, it 

118 Trickery. 



AREOPAGITICA 233 

smites us into darkness. Who can discern those planets that 
are oft Comhiist^^^ and those stars of brightest magnitude 
that rise and set with the sun, until the opposite motion of 
their orbs bring them to such a place in the firmament, where 
they may be seen evening or morning. The light which we 
have gained, was given us, not to be ever staring on, but by 
it to discover onward things more remote from our knowl- 
edge. It is not the unfrocking of a priest, the unmitering,. 
of a bishop, and the removing him from off the Presbyterian 
shoulders that will make us a happy nation, no, if other 
things as great in the church, and in the rule of life both 
economical and political be not looked into and reformed, we 
have looked so long upon the blaze that Zuinglhis and Calvin 
hath beaconed up to us, that we are stark blind. There be 
who perpetually complain of schisms and sects, and make it 
such a calamity that any man dissents from their maxims. 
'Tis their own pride and ignorance which causes the disturb- 
ing, who neither will hear with meekness, nor can convince, 
yet all must be suppressed which is not found in their 
Syntagma}^'' They are the troublers, they are the dividers 
of unity, who neglect and permit not others to unite those 
dissevered pieces which are yet wanting to the body of Truth. 
To be still searching what we know not, by what we know, 
still closing up truth to truth as we find it (for all her body 
is homogeneal^^^ and proportional) this is the golden rule in 
theology as well as in arithmetic, and makes up the best 
harmony in a church; not the forced and outward union of 
cold, and neutral, and inwardly divided minds. 

Lords and Commons of England, consider what nation it 
is whereof ye are, and whereof ye are the governors : a nation 
not slow and dull, but of a quick, ingenious, and piercing 
spirit, acute to invent, subtle and sinewy to discourse, not 
beneath the reach of any point the highest that human ca- 
pacity can soar to. Therefore the studies of learning in her 
deepest sciences have been so ancient, and so eminent among 
us, that writers of good antiquity, and ablest judgment have 
been persuaded that even the school of Pythagoras, and the 
Persian wisdom took beginning from the old philosophy of 

"» Within 8%" of the sun. 120 Sun„nary of doctrine. 

121 All made up of truth. 



234 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

this island. And that wise and civil^ Roman, Julius Agri- 
cola, who governed once here for Ccesar, preferred the nat- 
ural wits of Britain, before the labored studies of the French. 
Nor is it for nothing that the grave and frugal Transilvanian 
sends out yearly from as far as the mountainous borders of 
Russia, and beyond the Hercynian^^ wilderness, not their 
youth, but their staid men, to learn our language, and our 
theologic arts. Yet that which is above all this, the favor 
and the love of heaven we have great argument to think in 
a peculiar manner propitious and propending^^ toward us. 
Why else was this nation chosen before any other, that out 
of her as out of Sion should be proclaimed and sounded forth 
the first tidings and trumpet of Reformation to all Europe. 
And had it not been the obstinate perverseness of our 
prelates against the divine and admirable spirit of Wyclif, 
to suppress him as a schismatic and innovator, perhaps 
neither the Bohemian Huss and Jerome, no nor the name 
of Luther, or of Calvin had been ever known: the glory of 
reforming all our neighbors had been completely ours. 
But now, as our obdurate clergy have with violence de- 
meaned^^ the matter, we are become hitherto the latest and 
the backwardest scholars, of whom God offered to have 
made us the teachers. Now once again by all concurrence 
of signs, and by the general instinct of holy and devout men, 
as they daily and solemnly express their thoughts, God is 
decreeing to begin some new and great period in his Church, 
even to the reforming of Reformation itself: what does he 
then but reveal Himself to his servants, and as his manner 
is, first to his EngHshmen; I say as his manner is, first to 
us, though we mark not the method of his counsels, and are 
unworthy. Behold now this vast city; a city of refuge, the 
mansion house of liberty, encompassed and surrounded with 
his protection; the shop of war hath not there more anvils 
and hammers waking, to fashion out the plates and instru- 
ments of armed justice in defense of beleaguered truth, than 
there be pens and heads there, sitting by their studious 
lamps, musing, searching, revolving new notions and ideas 
wherewith to present, as with their homage and their fealty 

1^ Cultivated. ^^ Used of the German forests. 

124 Inclining. '^ Conducted. 



AREOPAGITICA 235 

the approaching Reformation: others as fast reading, trying 
all things, assenting to the force of reason and convince- 
ment. What could a man require more from a nation so 
pliant and so prone to seek after knowledge. What wants 
there to such a towardly and pregnant soil, but wise and 
faithful laborers, to make a knowing people, a nation of 
prophets, of sages, and of worthies. We reckon more than 
five months yet to harvest ; there need not be five weeks, had 
we but eyes to lift up, the fields are white already. Where 
there is much desire to learn, there of necessity will be much 
arguing, much writing, many opinions ; for opinion in good 
men is but knowledge in the making. Under these fan- 
tastic"* terrors of sect and schism, we wrong the earnest and 
zealous thirst after knowledge and understanding which 
God hath stirred up in this city. What some lament of, we 
rather should rejoice at, should rather praise this pious for- 
wardness among men, to reassume the ill deputed care of 
their religion into their own hands again. A little gener- 
ous prudence, a little forbearance of one another, and some 
grain of charity might win all these diligences to join, and 
unite in one general and brotherly search after truth; could 
we but forego this prelatical tradition of crowding free con- 
sciences and Christian liberties into canons and precepts of 
man. I doubt not, if some great and worthy stranger should 
come among us, wise to discern the mold and temper of a 
people, and how to govern it, observing the high hopes and 
aims, the diligent alacrity of our extended^ thoughts and 
reasonings in the persuance of truth and freedom, but that 
he would cry out as Pharus did, admiring the Roman do- 
cility and courage, if such were my Epirots, I would not 
despair the greatest design that could be attempted to make 
a church or kingdom happy. Yet these are the men cried 
out against for schismatics and sectarians; as if, while the 
temple of the Lord was building, some cutting, some squar- 
ing the marble, others hewing the cedars, there should be a 
sort of irrational men who could not consider there must be 
many schisms and many dissections made in the quarry and 
in the timber, ere the house of God can be built. And when 
every stone is laid artfully together, it can not be united into 

^28 Imaginary. ^' Advanced. 



236 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

a continuity, it can but be contiguous in this world; neither 
can every piece of the building be of one form; nay rather 
the perfection consists in this, that out of many moderate 
varieties and brotherly dissimilitudes that are not vastly dis- 
proportional arises the goodly and the graceful symmetry 
that commends the whole pile and structure. Let us there- 
fore be more considerate builders, more wise in spiritual 
architecture, when great reformation is expected. For now 
the time seems come, wherein Moses the great prophet may 
sit in heaven rejoicing to see that memorable and glorious 
wish of his fulfilled, when not only our seventy elders, but 
all the Lord's people are become prophets. No marvel then 
though some men, and some good men too perhaps, but 
young in goodness, as Joshua then was, envy them. They 
fret, and out of their own weakness are in agony, lest those 
divisions and subdivisions will undo' us. The adversary 
again applauds, and waits the hour, when they have branched 
themselves out, saith he, small enough into parties and parti- 
tions, than will be our time. Fool ! he sees not the firm root, 
out of which we all grow, though into branches : nor will 
beware until he sees our small divided maniples^^ cutting 
through at every angle of his ill united and unwieldly bri- 
gade. And that we are to hope better of all these supposed 
sects and schisms, and that we shall not need that solicitude 
honest perhaps though over timorous of them that vex in his 
behalf, but shall laugh in the end, at those malicious ap- 
plauders of our differences, I have these reasons to per- 
suade me. 

First when a city shall be as it were besieged and blocked 
about, her navigable river infested, inroads and incursions 
round, defiance and battle oft rumored to be marching up 
even to her walls, and suburb trenches, that then the people, 
or the greater part, more than at other times, wholly taken 
up with the study of highest and most important matters to 
be reformed, should be disputing, reasoning, reading, in- 
venting, discoursing, even to a rarity,^ and admiration, 
things not before discoursed or written of, argues first a 
singular good will, contentedness and confidence in your 
prudent foresight, and safe government. Lords and Com- 
ics Companies. ^^o ]jare degree. 



AREOPAGITICA 237 

mons; and from thence derives itselP** to a gallant bravery 
and well grounded contempt of their enemies, as if there 
were no small number of as great spirits among us, as his 
was, who when Rome was nigh besieged by Hannibal being 
in the city, bought that piece of ground at no cheap rate, 
whereon Hannibal himself encamped his own regiment. 
Next it is a lively and cheerful presage of our happy success 
and victory. For as in a body, when the blood is fresh, the 
spirits pure and vigorous, not only to vital, but to rational 
faculties, and those in the acutest, and the pertest^^^ opera- 
tions of wit and subtlety, it argues in what good plight and 
constitution the body is, so when the cheerfulness of the 
people is so sprightly up, as that it has, not only wherewith 
to guard well its own freedom and safety, but to spare, and 
to bestow upon the solidest and sublimest points of contro- 
versy, and new invention, it betoken us not degenerated, nor 
drooping to a fatal decay, but casting off the old and 
wrinkled skin of corruption to outlive these pangs and wax 
young again, entering the glorious ways of truth and pros- 
perous virtue destined to become great and honorable in 
these latter ages. Methinks I see in my mind a noble and 
puissant nation rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, 
and shaking her invincible locks: Methinks I see her as an 
eagle muing"^ her mighty youth, and kindling her undazzled 
eyes at the full midday beam; purging and unsealing her 
long abused sight at the fountain itself of heavenly radiance, 
while the whole noise^^^ of timorous and flocking birds, with 
those also that love the twilight, flutter about, amazed at 
what she means, and in their envious gabble would prog- 
nosticate a year of sects and schisms. 

What should ye do then, should ye suppress all this flowery 
crop of knowledge and new light sprung up and yet spring- 
ing daily in this city, should ye set an oligarchy of twenty 
ingrossers^^* over it, to bring a famine upon our minds again, 
when we shall know nothing but what is measured to us by 
their bushel? Believe it, Lords and Commons, they who 
counsel ye to such a suppressing, do as good as bid ye 
suppress yourselves; and I will soon show how. If it be 

""Flows on. 131 Sprightliest. "2 Renewing (by moulting). 
133 Noisy band. ^^ Monopolists. 



238 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

desired to know the immediate cause of all this free writing 
and free speaking, there can not be assigned a truer than 
your own mild, and free, and human government: it is the 
liberty, Lords and Commons, which your own valorous and 
happy counsels have purchased us, liberty which is the nurse 
of all great wits; this is that which hath rarified and en- 
lightened our spirits like the influence of heaven; this is 
that which hath enfranchised, enlarged and lifted up our 
apprehensions degrees above themselves. Ye can not make 
us now less capable, less knowing, less eagerly pursuing of 
the truth, unless ye first make yourselves, that made us so, 
less the lovers, less the founders of our true liberty. We 
can grow ignorant again, brutish, formal, and slavish, as ye 
found us; but ye then must first become that which ye 
can not be, oppressive, arbitrary, and tyrannous, as they were 
from whom ye have freed us. That our hearts are now more 
capacious, our thoughts more erected to the search and ex- 
pectation of great and exact things, is the issue of your 
own virtue propagated in us.; ye can not suppress that un- 
less ye reinforce an abrogated and merciless law, that fa- 
thers may despatch at will their own children. And who shall 
then stick closest to ye, and excite others? not he who 
takes up arms for cote and conduct,^ and his four nobles of 
Danegelt."^ Although I dispraise not the defense of just 
immunities, yet love my peace better, if that were all. Give 
me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely ac- 
cording to conscience, above all liberties. 

What would be best advised then, if it be found so hurt- 
ful and so unequal to suppress opinions for the newness, or 
the unsuitableness to a customary acceptance, will not be my 
task to say; I only shall repeat what I have learned from one 
of your own honorable number, a right noble and pious lord, 
who had he not sacrificed his life and fortunes to the church 
and comm.onwealth, we had not now missed and bewailed a 
worthy and undoubted patron of this argument. Ye know 
him I'm sure; yet I for honor's sake, and may it be eternal 
to him, shall name him, the Lord Brook. He writing of 
episcopacy, and by the way treating of sects and schisms, 

^^ I. e., to resist illegal taxation for clothing and conveying troops. 
^^ I. e., ship-money. The references here are to those who took up arms 
in the civil war rather than submit to the illegal taxes of Charles I. 



AREOPAGITICA 239 

left ye his vote, or rather now the last words of his dying 
charge, which I know will ever be of dear and honored re- 
gard with ye, so full of meekness and breathing charity, 
that next to his last testament, who bequeathed love and 
peace to his disciples, I can not call to mind where I have 
read or heard words more mild and peaceful. He there ex- 
horts us to hear with patience and humility those, however 
they be miscalled, that desire to live purely, in such a use 
of God's ordinances, as the best guidance of their conscience 
gives them, and to tolerate them, though in some discon- 
formity to ourselves. The book itself will tell us more at 
large being published to the world, and dedicated to the 
Parliament by him who both for his life and for his death 
deserves, that what advice he left be not laid by without 
perusal. 

And now the time in special is, by privilege to write and 
speak what may help to the further discussion of matters in 
agitation. The temple of Janus with his two controversial 
faces might now not unsignificantly be set open.^^^ And 
though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon 
the earth, so truth be in the field, we do injuriously by licens- 
ing and prohibiting to misdoubt her strength. Let her and 
falsehood grapple ; who ever knew truth put to the worse, in 
a free and open encounter. Her confuting is the best and 
surest suppressing. He who hears what praying there is for 
light and clearer knowledge to be sent down among us, 
would think of other matters to be constituted beyond the 
discipline of Geneva,^^ framed and fabricated already to our 
hands. Yet when the new light which we beg for shines in 
upon us, there be who envy, and oppose, if it come not first 
in at their casements. What a collusion _ is this, whenas 
we are exhorted by the wise man to use diligence, to seek 
for wisdom as for hidden treasures early and late, that an- 
other order shall enjoin us to know nothing but by statute. 
When a man hath been laboring the hardest labor in the 
deep mines of knowledge, hath furnished out his findings in 
all their equipage, drawn forth his reasons as it were a battle 
ranged, scattered and defeated all objections in his way, calls 
out his adversary into the plain, offers him the advantage of 
"7 Indicating a time of war. ^^s xhe Presbyterian system. 



240 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

wind and sun, if he please ; only that he may turn the matter 
by dint of argument, for his opponents then to skulk, to lay 
ambushments, to keep a narrow bridge of licensing where 
the challenger should pass, though it be valor enough in 
soldiership, is but weakness and cowardice in the wars of 
truth. For who knows not that truth is strong next to the 
Almighty ; she needs no policies, no stratagems, no licensings 
to make her victorious, those are the shifts and the defenses 
that error uses against her power: give her but room, and 
do not bind her when she sleeps, for then she speaks not 
true, as the old Proteus did, who spake oracles only when he 
was caught and bound, but then rather she turns herself into 
all shapes, except her own, and perhaps tunes her voice ac- 
cording to the time, as Micaiah did before Ahab, until she 
be adjured into her own likeness. Yet is it not impossible 
that she may have more shapes than one. What else is all 
that rank of things indifferent, wherein truth may be on this 
side, or on the other, without being unlike herself. What 
but a vain shadow else is the abolition of those ordinances, 
that handwriting' nailed to the cross, what great purchase is 
this Christian liberty which Paul so often boasts of. His 
doctrine is, that he who eats or eats not, regards a day, or 
regards it not, may do either to the Lord. How many other 
things might be tolerated in peace, and left to conscience, 
had we but charity, and were it not the chief stronghold 
of our hypocrisy to be ever judging one another. I fear 
yet this iron yoke of outward conformity hath left a slavish 
print upon our necks ; the ghost of a linen decency"® yet 
haunts us. We stumble and are impatient at the least di- 
viding of one visible congregation from another, though it 
be not in fundamentals; and through our forwardness to 
suppress, and our backwardness to recover any enthralled 
piece of truth out of the grip of custom, we care not to 
keep truth separated from truth, which is the fiercest rent 
and disunion of all. We do not see that while we still affect 
by all means a rigid external formality, we may as soon fall 
again into a gross conforming stupidity, a stark and dead 
congealment of wood and hay and stubble forced and frozen 
together, which is more to the sudden degenerating of a 

139 Priestly vestments. 



AREOPAGITICA 241 

church than many subdichotomies^^° of petty schisms. Not 
that I can think well of every Hght separation, or that all in a 
church is to be expected gold and silver and precious stones: 
it is not possible for man to sever the wheat from the tares, 
the good fish from the other fry; that must be the angels' 
ministry at the end of mortal things. Yet if all can not be 
of one mind, as who looks they should be? this doubtless is 
more wholesome, more prudent, and more Christian that 
many be tolerated, rather than all compelled. I mean not 
tolerated popery, and open superstition, which as it extirpates 
all religions and civil supremacies, so itself should be 
extirpated, provided first that all charitable and compassionate 
means be used to win and regain the weak and misled : that 
also which is impious or evil absolutely either against faith 
or manners no law can possibly permit, that intends not 
to unlaw itself: but those neighboring differences, or rather 
indifferences, are what I speak of, whether in some point of 
doctrine or of discipline, which though they may be many, 
yet need not interrupt the unity of spirit, if we could but 
find among us the bond of peace. In the meanwhile if any 
one would write, and bring his helpful hand to the slow-mov- 
ing reformation we labor under, if truth have spoken to him 
before others, or but seemed at least to speak, who hath so 
be-Jesuited"^ us that we should trouble that man with asking 
license to do so worthy a deed ? and not consider this, that 
i.f it come to prohibiting, there is not aught more likely to 
be prohibited than truth itself ; whose first appearance to our 
eyes bleared and dimmed with prejudice and custom, is more 
unsightly and unplausible than many errors, even as the per- 
son is of many a great man slight and contemptible to see to. 
And what do they tell us vainly of new opinions, when this 
very opinion of theirs, that none must be heard, but whom 
they like, is the worst and newest opinion of all others ; and 
is the chief cause why sects and schisms do so much abound, 
and true knowledge is kept at distance from us; besides yet 
a greater danger which is in it. For when God shakes a 
kingdom with strong and healthful commotions to a general 
reforming, 'tis not untrue that many sectarians and false 
teachers are then busiest in seducing; but yet more true it is, 

1*° Subdivisions. 1*1 Made Jesuits of. 



242 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON 

that God then raises to his own work men of rare abilities, 
and more than common industry, not only to look back and 
revise what hath been taught heretofore, but to gain further 
and go on, some new enlightened steps in the discovery of 
truth. For such is the order of God's enlightening his 
church, to dispense and deal out by degrees his beam, so as 
our earthly eyes may best sustain it. Neither is God ap- 
pointed and confined, where and out of what place these his 
chosen shall be first heard to speak ; for he sees not as man 
sees, chooses not as man chooses, lest we should devote our- 
selves again to set places, and assembhes, and outward call- 
ings of men; planting our faith one while in the old 
convocation house,^*^ and another while in the chapel at 
Westminster;"^ when all the faith and religion that shall be 
there canonized,"* is not sufficient without plain convince- 
ment, and the charity of patient instruction to supple the 
least bruise of conscience, to edify the meanest Christian, 
who desires to walk in the spirit, and not in the letter of 
human trust, for all the number of voices that can be there 
made, no though Harry the Seventh himself there, with all his 
liege tombs"^ about him, should lend them voices from the 
dead, to swell their number. And if the men be erroneous 
who appear to be the leading schismatics, what withholds 
us but our sloth, our self-will, and distrust in the right 
cause, that we do not give them gentle meetings and gentle 
dismissions, that we debate not and examine the matter thor- 
oughly with liberal and frequent audience; if not for their 
sakes, yet for our own? seeing no man who hath tasted 
learning, but will confess the many ways of profiting by 
those who not contented with stale receipts are able to man- 
age, and set forth new positions to the world. And were 
they but as the dust and cinders of our feet, so long as in 
that notion they may serve to polish and brighten the armor 
of truth, even for that respect they were not utterly to be 
cast away. But if they be of those whom God hath fitted 
for the special use of these times with eminent and ample gifts, 
and those perhaps neither among the priests, nor among 
the Pharisees, and we in the haste of a precipitant zeal shall 

142 Where the Episcopal clergy met to legislate. ^*^ Where the Presby- 

terian divines drew up their Confession. i** Put into canons or rules. 

145 jn Westminster Abbey. 



AREOPAGITICA 243 

make no distinction, but resolve to stop their mouths, be- 
cause we fear they come with new and dangerous opinions, 
as we commonly forejudge them ere we understand them, 
no less than wo to us, while thinking thus to defend the 
gospel, we are found the persecutors. 

There have been not a few since the beginning of this 
Parliament, both of the presbytery and others who by their 
unlicensed books to the contempt of an Imprimatur first 
broke that triple ice clung about our hearts, and taught the 
people to see day: I hope that none of those were the per- 
suaders to renew upon us this bondage which they themselves 
have wrought so much good by condemning. But if neither 
the check that Moses gave to young Joshua, nor the counter- 
mand which our Saviour gave to young John, who was so 
ready to prohibit those whom he thought unlicensed, be not 
enough to admonish our elders how unacceptable to God 
their testy mood of prohibiting is, if neither their own re- 
membrance what evil hath abounded in the church by this 
let^** of licensing, and what good they themselves have 
begun by transgressing it, be not enough, but that they will 
persuade, and execute the most Dominican part of the In- 
quisition over us, and are already with one foot in the 
stirrup so active at suppressing, it would be no unequal dis- 
tribution in the first place, to suppress the suppressors them- 
selves; whom the change of their condition hath puffed up, 
more than their late experience of harder times hath made 
wise. 

And as for regulating the press, let no man think to have 
the honor of advising ye better than yourselves have done 
in that order published next before this, that no book be 
printed, unless the printer's and the author's name, or at 
least the printer's be registered. Those which otherwise 
come forth, if they be found mischievous and libelous, the 
fire and the executioner will be the timeliest and the most 
effectual remedy, that man's prevention can use. For this 
authentic Spanish policy of licensing books, if I have said 
aught will prove the most unlicensed book itself within a 
short while; and was the immediate image of a star-chamber 
decree to that purpose made in those very times when that 

"^ Hindrance. 



244 AREOPAGITICA 

court did the rest of those her pious works, for which she 
is now fallen from the stars with Lucifer. Whereby you 
may guess what kind of state prudence, what love of the 
people, what care of religion, or good manners there was at 
the contriving although with singular hypocrisy it pre- 
tended to bind books to their good behavior. And how it 
got the upper hand of your precedent order so well con- 
stituted before, if we may believe those men whose pro- 
fession gives them cause to inquire most, it may be doubted 
there was in it the fraud of some old patentees and monopo- 
lisers in the trade of book-selling ; who under pretence of the 
poor in their company not to be defrauded, and the just re- 
taining of each man his several copies, which God forbid 
should be gainsaid, brought divers glozing colors^*' to the 
house, which were indeed but colors, and serving to no end 
except it be to exercise a superiority over their neighbors, 
men who do not therefore labor in an honest profession to 
which learning is indebted, that they should be made other 
men's vassals. Another end is thought was aimed at by 
some of them in procuring by petition this order, that hav- 
ing power in their hands, maligant^*^ books might the easier 
escape abroad, as the event shows. But of these sophisms 
and elenchs of merchandise I skill not:"^ This I know, that 
errors in a good government and in a bad are equally almost 
incident ;^^° for what magistrate may not be misinformed, and 
much the sooner, if liberty of printing be reduced into the 
power of a few, but to redress willingly and speedily what 
hath been erred, and in highest authority to esteem a plain 
advertisement more than others have done a sumptuous bribe, 
is a virtue (honored Lords and Commons) answerable to^^^ 
your highest actions, and whereof none can participate but 
greatest and wisest men. 

1*'^ Plausible pretexts, i*^ Royalist. i*» I have no knowledge of these 
tricks of trade and the exposure of them. ^°** Liable to occur. 
1^ Consistent with. 



MILTON'S 
TRACTATE ON EDUCATION 

FROM THE EDITION OF 1673 



HC III 16 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 

Mr. Samuel Hartlib, to whom the following letter was ad- 
dressed, was the son of a Polish merchant of German descent 
and an English m,other. He lived in London during a large part 
of his life, and was actively interested in a vast number of educa- 
tional and philanthropic schemes. It appears from the "Tractate" 
itself that he had requested Milton to put into writing some of 
the ideas on the education of a gentleman which they had from 
time to time touched on in conversation ; and the present treatise 
is the result: 

Beginning with the definition of a "complete and generous 
education" as one "which fits a man to perform justly, skilfully, 
and magnanimously all the offices, both public and private, of 
peace and war," Milton proceeds to lay down a program which 
is nicely to startle the modern reader. The stress on Latin and 
Greek at the beginning is easily accounted for by the fact thaif 
in Milton's day these tongues were the only keys to the -store- 
house of learning; but the casual way in which Chaldean and 
Syrian are added to Hebrew seems to indicate that the author 
tended to overestimate the ease with which the ordinary youth 
acquires languages. But the mark of the -system here expounded 
is that language is to be merely a means, not an end; thai things 
and not words constitute the elements of education. Thus the 
Greek and Latin authors prescribed are chosen for the value of 
their subject matter, and provision is made for a comprehensive 
knowledge of the science of the time, as well as for training in 
religion and morals. The suggestions made for exercise have 
the same practical and utilitarian tendency, fencing, wrestling, 
and horsemanship being prescribed with a view to soldiership. 
Nor are the arts neglected, for poetry and music are given their 
place both as recreation and as influences on character. 

This is indeed, as Milton confesses, "not a bow for every man 
to shoot in"; but as an ideal it is rich in both stimulus and 
practical suggestion. 



OF EDUCATION 



To Master Samuel Hartlib. 
Mr. Hartlib, 

I AM long since persuaded, that to say, or do anght worth 
memory and imitation, no purpose or respect' should 
sooner move us, than simply the love of God, and of 
mankind. Nevertheless to write now the reforming of 
education, though it be one of the greatest and noblest de- 
signs that can be thought on, and for the want whereof this 
nation perishes, I had not yet at this time been induced, but 
by your earnest entreaties, and serious conjurements;^ as 
having my mind for the present half diverted in the pur- 
suance of some other assertions,^ the knowledge and the 
use of which, can not but be a great furtherance both to the 
enlargement of truth, and honest living, with much more 
peace. Nor should the laws of any private friendship have 
prevailed with me to divide thus, or transpose* my former 
thoughts, but that I see those aims, those actions which have 
won you with me the esteem^ of a person sent hither by 
some good providence from a far country to be the occasion 
and the incitement of great good to this island. And, as I 
hear, you have obtained the same repute with men of most 
approved wisdom, and some of highest authority among us. 
Not to mention the learned correspondence which you hold 
in foreign parts, and the extraordinary pains and diligence 
which you have used in this matter both here, and beyond 
the seas; either by the definite will of God so ruling, or the 
peculiar sway of nature, which also is God's working. 
Neither can I think that so reputed, and so valued as you 

1 Consideration. ^ Appeals. ^ As, e. g., unlicensed printing 
and divorce. * Change. ^ Reputation. 

247 



248 TRACTATE OF JOHN MILTON 

are, you would to the forfeit of your own discerning ability, 
impose upon me an unfit and over-ponderous argument, but 
that the satisfaction which you profess to have received 
from those incidental discourses which we have wandered 
into, hath pressed and almost constrained you into a per- 
suasion, that what you require from me in this point, I 
neither ought, nor can in conscience defer beyond this time 
both of so much need at once, and so much opportunity to 
try what God hath determined. I will not resist therefore, 
whatever it is either of divine, or human obligement that 
you lay upon me ; but will forthwith set down in writing, as 
you request me, that voluntary Idea, which hath long in 
silence presented itself to me, of a better education, in 
extent and comprehension far more large, and yet of time 
far shorter, and of attainment far more certain, than hath 
been yet in practise. 

Brief I shall endeavor to be; for that which I have 
to say, assuredly this nation hath extreme need should 
be done sooner than spoken. To tell you therefore 
what I have benefited herein among old renowned authors, 
I shall spare; and to search what many modern Januas^ and 
Didactics* more than ever I shall read, have projected, my 
inclination leads me not. But if you can accept of these few 
observations which have flowered off, and are, as it were, 
the burnishing' of many studious and contemplative years 
altogether spent in the search of religious and civil knowl- 
edge, and such as pleased you so well in the relating, I here 
give you them to dispose of. 

The end then of learning is to repair the ruins of our first 
parents by regaining to know God aright, and out of that 
knowledge to love him, to imitate him, to be like him, as 
we may the nearest by possessing our souls of true virtue, 
which being united to the heavenly grace of faith makes 
up the highest perfection. But because our understanding 
can not in this body found itself but on sensible things, nor 
arrive so clearly to the knowledge of God and things in- 
visible, as by orderly conning over the visible and inferior 
creature, the same method is necessarily to be followed in 

* Works on education by John Amos Comenius, a great educational 
reformer and a friend of Hartlib's. 
' Fragments rubbed off in polishing. ^ Perceived by the senses. 



OF EDUCATION 249 

all discreet teaching. And seeing every nation affords not 
experience and tradition enough for all kind of learning, 
therefore we are chiefly taught the languages of those 
people who have at any time been most industrious after 
wisdom; so that language is but the instrument conveying 
to us things useful to be known. And though a linguist 
should pride himself to have all the tongues that Babel cleft 
the world into, yet if he have not studied the solid things 
in them as well as the words and lexicons, he were nothing 
so much to be esteemed a learned man, as any yoeman or 
tradesman competently wise in his mother dialect only. Hence 
appear the many mistakes which have made learning gen- 
erally so unpleasing and so unsuccessful ; first we do amiss to 
spend seven or eight years merely in scraping together so 
much miserable Latin and Greek, as might be learned other 
wise easily and delightfully in one year. And that which 
casts our proficiency therein so much behind, is our time 
lost partly in too oft idle vacancies^ given both to schools 
and universities, partly in a preposterous^" exaction, forcing 
the empty wits of children to compose themes, verses and 
orations, which are the acts of ripest judgment and the final 
work of a head filled by long reading and observing, with 
elegant maxims, and copious invention. These are not mat- 
ters to be wrung from poor striplings, like blood out of the 
nose, or the plucking of untimely fruit: besides the ill habit 
which they get of wretched barbarizing against the Latin 
and Greek idiom, with their untotored Anglicisms, odious 
to be read, yet not to be avoided without a well continued 
and judicious conversing" among pure authors digested, 
which they scarce taste, whereas, if after some preparatory 
grounds of speech by their certain forms got into memory, 
they were led to the praxis^ thereof in some chosen short 
books lessoned throughly to them, they might then forth- 
with proceed to learn the substance of good things, and arts 
in due order, which would bring the whole language quickly 
into their power. This I take to be the most rational 
and most profitable way of learning languages, and where- 
by we may best hope to give account to God of our youth 

8 Holidays. " Lit., in inverted order. ^ Familiar intercourse. 
" Practical application. 



250 TRACTATE OF JOHN MILTON 

spent herein: and for the usual method of teaching arts, I 
deem it to be an old error of universities not yet well re- 
covered from the scholastic grossness of barbarous ages, 
that instead of beginning with arts most easy, and those 
be such as are most obvious to the sense, they present their 
young unmatriculated novices at first coming with the most 
intellective" abstractions of logic and metaphysics; so that 
they having but newly left those grammatic flats and shal- 
lows where they stuck unreasonably to learn a. few words 
with lamentable construction, and now on the sudden trans- 
ported under another climate to be tossed and turmoiled* with 
their unballasted wits in fathomless and unquiet deeps of con- 
troversy, do for the most part grow into hatred and contempt 
of learning, mocked and deluded all this while with ragged 
notions and babblements, while they expected worthy and 
delightful knowledge; till poverty or youthful years call 
them importunately their several ways, and hasten them with 
the sway" of friends either to an ambitious and mercenary, 
or ignorantly zealous divinity; some allured to the trade 
of law, grounding their purposes not on the prudent and 
heavenly contemplation of justice and equity which was never 
taught them, but on the promising and pleasing thoughts of 
litigious terms, fat contentions and flowing fees; others be- 
take them to State affairs, with souls so unprincipled in 
virtue and true generous breeding, that flattery, and court 
shifts^" and tyrannous aphorisms appear to them the highest 
points of wisdom; instilling their barren hearts with a 
conscientious slavery," if, as I rather think, it be not feigned. 
Others lastly of a more delicious and airy spirit," retire 
themselves knowing no better, to the enjoyments of ease 
and luxury, living out their days in feast and jollity; which 
indeed is the wisest and the safest course of all these, unless 
they were with more integrity undertaken. And these are 
the fruits of misspending our prime youth at the schools and 
universities as we do, either in learning mere words or 
such things chiefly, as were better unlearned. 

I shall detain you no longer in the demonstration of what 
we should not do, but straight conduct ye to a hill side where 

^ Intellectual. " Influence. ^^ Tricks. ^® A slavery which they 

try to believe conscientious. " Delicate and spiritual nature. 



OF EDUCATION 251 

I will point ye out the right path of a virtuous and noble 
education ; laborious indeed at the first ascent, but else so 
smooth, so green, so full of goodly prospect, and melodious 
sounds on every side, that the harp of Orpheus^^ was not 
more charming. I doubt not but ye shall have more ado 
to drive our dullest and laziest youth, our stocks and stubs 
from the infinite desire of such a happy nurture, than we 
have not to hale and drag our choicest and hopefulest wits 
to that asinine feast of sowthistles and brambles which is 
commonly set before them, as all the food and entertainment 
of their tenderest and most docible^® age. I call therefore 
a complete and generous education that which fits a man 
to perform justly, skilfully and magnanimously all the offices 
both private and public, of peace and war. And how all 
this may be done between twelve, and one and twenty, less 
time than is now bestowed in pure trifling at grammar and 
sophistry, is to be thus ordered. 

First to find out a spacious house and ground about it fit 
for an academy, and big enough to lodge a hundred and 
fifty persons, whereof twenty or thereabout may be attend- 
ants, all under the government of one, who shall be thought 
of desert sufficient, and ability either to do all, or wisely to 
direct, and oversee it done. This place should be at once 
both school and university, not heeding a remove to any 
other house of scholarship, except it be some peculiar Col- 
lege of Law, or Physic, where they mean to be practitioners ; 
but as for those general studies which take up all our time 
from Lilly^^ to the commencing,^ as they term it, Master of 
Art, it should be absolute. After this pattern, as many Edi- 
fices may be converted to this use, as shall be needful in 
every city throughout this land, which would tend much to 
the increase of learning and civility everywhere. This 
number, less or more thus collected, to the convenience of a 
foot company, or interchangeably two troops of cavalry, 
should divide their day's work into three parts, as it lies 
orderly. Their studies, their exercises, and their diet. 

. For the studies, first they should begin with the chief and 
necessary rules of some good grammar, either that now 

^ Which charmed even trees and stones. ^^ Docile. 

20 LiUy's " Latin Primer." a Graduation. 



252 TRACTATE OF JOHN MILTON 

used, or any better: and while this is doing, their speech is 
to be fashioned to a distinct and clear pronunciation, as near 
as may be to the Italian, especially in the vowels. For we 
Englishmen being far northerly, do not open our mouths in 
the cold air, wide enough to grace a southern tongue; but 
are observed by all other nations to speak exceeding close 
and inward: So that to smatter Latin with an English 
mouth, is as ill a hearing as Law-French. Next to make 
them expert in the usefulest points of grammar, and withal 
to season^ them, and win them early to the love of virtue 
and true labor, ere any flattering seducement, or vain prin- 
ciple seize them wandering, some easy and delightful book of 
education would be read to them; whereof the Greeks have 
store, as CebesJ^ Plutarch^^ and other Socratic discourses. 
But in Latin we have none of classic authority extant, ex- 
cept the two or three first books of Quintilian^^ and some 
select pieces elsewhere. But here the main skill and ground- 
work will be, to temper^ them such lecture and explanations 
upon every opportunity as may lead and draw them in willing 
obedience, inflamed with the study of learning, and the ad- 
miration of virtue ; stirred up with high hopes of living to be 
brave men, and worthy patriots, dear to God, and famous to 
all ages. That they may despise and scorn all their childish, 
and ill-taught qualities, to delight in manly, and liberal exer- 
cises: which he who hath the art, and proper eloquence to 
catch them with, what with mild and effectual persuasions, 
and what with the intimation of some fear, if need be, but 
chiefly by his own example, might in a short space gain 
them to an incredible diligence and courage: infusing into 
their young breasts such an ingenuous and noble ardor, as 
would not fail to make many of them renowned and match- 
less men. At the same time, some other hour of the day, 
might be taught them the rules of arithmetic, and soon after 
the elements of geometry even playing, as the old manner 
was. After evening repast, till bed-time their thoughts will 
be best taken up in the easy grounds of religion, and the 
story of Scripture. The next step would be to the authors 
on agriculture, Cato, Varro, and Columella, for the matter is 

22 Imbue. 23 A disciple of Socrates, to whom was ascribed a book on 

the cultivation of virtue. =4 Author of the famous " Lives." He- lived 

about 100 A. D. 25 xhe Latin rhetorician, b. 42 a. d. 26 Adept. 



OF EDUCATION 253 

most easy, and if the language be difficult, so much the better, 
it is not a difficulty above their years. And here will be an 
occasion of inciting and enabling them hereafter to improve 
the tillage of their country, to recover the bad soil, and to 
remedy the waste that is made of good; for this was one of 
Hercules' praises. Ere half these authors be read (which 
will soon be with plying" hard, and daily) they can not choose 
but be masters of any ordinary prose.^ So that it will be 
then seasonable for them to learn in any modern author, the 
use of the globes, and all the maps ; first with the old names, 
and then with the new: or they might be then capable to 
read any compendious method of natural philosophy. And 
at the same time might be entering into the Greek tongue, 
after the same manner as was before prescribed in the Latin ; 
whereby the difficulties of grammar being soon overcome, 
all the historical physiology of Aristotle and Theophrastus^ 
are open before them, and as I may say, under contribution. 
The like access will be to Vitruvius,^'^ to Seneca's natural 
questions,^^ to Mela^ Celsus^ Pliny ^ or Solinus^^ And hav- 
ing thus passed the principles of arithmetic, geometry, 
astronomy, and geography with a general compact of phys- 
ics, they may descend in mathematics to the instrumental 
science of trigonometry and from thence to fortification, 
architecture, engineering, or navigation. And in natural 
philosophy they may proceed leisurely from the history of 
meteors, minerals, plants and living creatures as far as 
anatomy. Then also in course might be read to them out of 
some not tedious writer the institution of physic; that they 
may know the tempers,^® the humors,^" the seasons, and how 
to manage a crudity;^' which he who can wisely and timely 
do, is not only a great physician to himself, and to his friends, 
but also may at some time or other, save an army by this 
frugal and expenseless means only; and not let the healthy 
and stout bodies of young men rot away under him for want 
of this discipline ; which is a great pity, and no less a shame 
to the commander. To set forward all these proceedings in 

^ Applying themselves. ^ I. e., Latin prose. *^ A pupil of Aristotles. 

^ On architecture. ^^ On physics. ^^ On geography. ^ On medicine. 

34 On natural history. ^5 An abridgement of Pliny. ^6 -phe temperament 
was supposed to be due to the predominance of one of the four humors 
in the body. ^'^ Indigestion. 



254 TRACTATE OF JOHN MILTON 

nature and mathematics, what hinders, but that they may- 
procure, as often as shall be needful, the helpful experiences 
of hunters, fowlers, fishermen, shepherds, gardeners, apothe- 
caries; and in the other sciences, architects, engineers, mari- 
ners, anatomists ; who doubtless would be ready some for re- 
ward, and some to favor such a hopeful seminary. And this 
will give them such a real tincture of natural knowledge, as 
they shall never forget, but daily augment with delight. Then 
also those poets which are now counted most hard, will be 
both facile and pleasant, Orpheus, Hesiod, Theocritus, Aratus, 
Nicander, Op plan, Dionysius, and in Latin Lucretius, Mani- 
lius, and the rural part of Virgil. 

By this time, years and good general precepts will have 
furnished them more distinctly with that act of reason which 
in ethics is called proairesis^^ that they may with some judg- 
ment contemplate upon moral good and evil. Then will be 
required a special reenforcement of constant and sound 
indoctrinating to set them right and firm, instructing them 
more amply in the knowledge of virtue and the hatred of 
vice : while their young and pliant affections are led through 
all the moral works oi Plato, Xenophon, Cicero, Plutarch, 
Laertius^^ and those Locrian remnants ;*** but still to be re- 
duced*^ in their nightward studies wherewith they close the 
day's work, under the determinate*^ sentence of David or 
Solomon, or the evanges*^ and apostolic scriptures. Being 
perfet in the knowledge of personal duty, they may then 
begin the study of economics. And either now, or before 
this, they may have easily learned at any odd hour the 
Italian tongue. And soon after, but with wariness and good 
antidote, it would be wholesome enough to let them taste 
some choice comedies, Greek, Latin, or Italian: Those 
tragedies also that treat of household matters, as Trachiniae,** 
Alcestis*^ and the like. The next remove must be to the 
study of politics; to know the beginning, end, and reasons 
of political societies; that they may not in a dangerous fit 
of the commonwealth be such poor, shaken, uncertain reeds, 
of such a tottering conscience, as many of our great coun- 
selors have lately shown themselves, but steadfast pillars of 

^ The choice between good and evil, ^s Diogenes Laertius, who wrote 

a history of philosophy. *" Ascribed to Timseus. *^ Brought back. 

*2 Authoritative. *5 Gospels. ** By Sophocles. *^ By Euripides. 



OF EDUCATION 255 

the state. After this they are to dive into the ground of 
law and legal justice; delivered first, and with best warrant 
by Moses; and as far as human prudence can be trusted, in 
those extolled remains of Grecian lawgivers, Lycurgiis, 
Solon, Zaleucns, Charondas,^'^ and thence to all the Roman 
edicts and tables with their Justinian; and so down to the 
Saxon and common laws of England, and the statutes. Sun- 
days also and every evening may be now understandingly 
spent in the highest matters of theology, and church history 
ancient and modern: and ere this time the Hebrew tongue 
at a set hour might have been gained, that the Scriptures 
may be now read in their own original ; whereto it would be 
no impossibility to add the Chaldey," and the Syrian*^ dialect. 
When all these employments are well conquered, then will 
the choice histories, heroic poems, and Attic tragedies of 
stateliest and most regal argument, with all the famous po- 
litical orations offer themselves ; which if they were not only 
read; but some of them got by memory, and solemnly pro- 
nounced with right accent, and grace, as might be taught, 
would endow them even with the spirit and vigor of De- 
mosthenes or Cicero, Euripides, or Sophocles. And now 
lastly will be the time to read with them those organic*^ arts 
which enable men to discourse and write perspicuously, ele- 
gantly, and according to the fitted style of lofty, mean, or 
lowly. Logic therefore so much as is useful, is to be re- 
ferred to this due place with all her well couched^" heads and 
topics, until to be time to open her contracted palm into a 
graceful and ornate rhetoric taught out of the rule of Plato, 
Aristotle, Phalereus, Cicero, Hermogenes, Longinus. To 
which poetry would be made subsequent, or indeed rather 
precedent, as being less subtle and fine, but more simple, sen- 
suous and passionate. I mean not here the prosody of a 
verse, which they could not have hit on before among 
the rudiments of grammar; but that sublime art which in 
Aristotle's Poetics, in Horace, and the Italian commentaries 
of Castelvetro, Tasso, Mazzoni, and others, teaches what the 
laws are of a true epic poem, what of a dramatic, what of a 

** Lawgivers respectively to Sparta, Athens, the Locrians in southern Italy, 
and certain cities in Sicily ^'^ Chaldean, a language akin to Hebrew. 

*8 Aramaic, the language of Palestine in the time of Christ. 
^ Practical. ^ Arranged. 



256 TRACTATE OF JOHN MILTON 

lyric, what decorum is, which is the grand masterpiece to 
observe. This would make them soon perceive what des- 
picable creatures our common rimers and playwriters be, 
and show them, what religious, what glorious and magnifi- 
cent use might be made of poetry both in divine and human 
things. From hence and not till now will be the right 
season of forming them to be able writers and composers in 
every excellent matter, when they shall be thus fraught with 
an universal insight into things. Or whether they be to 
speak in Parliament or council, honor and attention would 
be waiting on their lips. There would then also appear in 
pulpits other visages, other gestures, and stuff otherwise 
wrought than what we now sit under, ofttimes to as great 
a trial of our patience as any other that they preach to us. 
These are the studies wherein our noble and our gentle 
youth ought to bestow their time in a disciplinary way from 
twelve to one and twenty; unless they rely more upon their 
ancestors dead, than upon themselves living. In which 
methodical course it is so supposed they must proceed by the 
steady pace of learning onward, as at convenient times for 
memories' sake to retire back into the middle ward,^^ and 
sometimes into the rear of what they have been taught, 
until they have confirmed, and solidly united the whole body 
of their perfected knowledge, like the last embatthng of a 
Roman legion. Now will be worth the seeing what exercises 
and recreations may best agree, and become these studies. 

Their Exercise. 

The course of study hitherto briefly described, is what 
I can guess by reading, likest to those ancient and famous 
schools of Pythagoras, Plato, I so crates, Aristotle and such 
others, out of which were bred up such a number of re- 
nowned philosophers, orators, historians, poets and princes 
all over Greece, Italy, and Asia, besides the flourishing 
studies of Cyrene and Alexandria. But herein it shall ex- 
ceed them, and supply a defect as great as that which Plato 
noted in the commonwealth of Sparta, whereas that city 
trained up their youth most for war, and these in their Acad- 

^^ Center. 



OF EDUCATION 257 

emies and Lycceum, all for the gown/' this institution of 
breeding which I here delineate, shall be equally good both 
for peace and war. Therefore about an hour and a half ere 
they eat at noon should be allowed them for exercise and 
due rest afterward: but the time for this may be enlarged 
at pleasure, according as their rising in the morning shall 
be early. The exercise which I commend first, is the exact 
use of their weapon, to guard and to strike safely with 
edge, or point; this will keep them healthy, nimble, strong, 
and well in breath, is also the likeliest means to make them 
grow large and tall, and to inspire them with a gallant and 
fearless courage, which being tempered with seasonable lec- 
tures and precepts to them of true fortitude and patience, 
will turn into a native and heroic valor, and make them 
hate the cowardice of doing wrong. They must be also 
practised in all the locks and grips of wrestling, wherein 
Englishmen were wont to excel, as need may often be in 
fight to tug or grapple, and to close. And this perhaps will 
be enough, wherein to prove and heat their single strength. 
The interim of unsw^eating^ themselves regularly, and con- 
venient rest before meat may both with profit and dehght 
be taken up in recreating and composing their travailed^* 
spirits with the solemn and divine harmonies of music heard 
or learned; either while the skilful organist plies his grave 
and fancied descant, in lofty fugues, or the whole symphony 
with artful and unimaginable touches adorn and grace the 
well studied chords of some choice composer, sometimes the 
lute, or soft organ stop waiting on elegant voices either to 
religious, martial, or civil ditties; which if wise men and 
prophets be not extremely out,^^ have a great power over dis- 
positions and manners, to smooth and make them gentle 
from rustic harshness and distempered passions. The like 
also would not be unexpedient after meat to assist and 
cherish Nature in her first concoction,^ and send their minds 
back to study in good tune and satisfaction. Where having 
followed it closer under vigilant eyes till about two hours 
before supper, they are by a sudden alarm or watchword, 
to be called out to their mihtary motions, under sky or 

^2 Civil life. ^ Cooling oflf. ^ Tired with exercise. ^ Mistaken. 
^ Digestion. 



258 TRACTATE OF JOHN MILTON 

covert, according to the season, as was the Roman wont: 
first on foot, then as their age permits, on horseback, to 
all the art of cavalry; that having in sport, but with much 
exactness, and daily muster, served out the rudiments of 
their soldiership in all the skill of embattling, marching, 
encamping, fortifying, besieging and battering, with all the 
helps of ancient and m.odern stratagems, tactics and warlike 
maxims, they may as it were out of a long war come forth 
renowned and perfect commanders in the service of their 
country. They would not then, if they were trusted with 
fair and hopeful armies, suffer them for want of just and 
wise discipline to shed away from about them like sick 
feathers, though they never so oft supplied: they would 
not suffer their empty and unrecruitable"' colonels of twenty 
men in a company to quaff out,^^ or convey,^^ into secret 
hoards, the wages of a delusive list, and a miserable rem- 
nant: yet in the meanwhile to be overmastered with a score 
or two of drunkards, the only soldiery left about them, or 
else to comply with all rapines and violences. No certainly, 
if they knew aught of that knowledge that belongs to good 
men or good governors^ they would not suffer these things. 
But to return to our own institute, besides these constant 
exercises at home, there is another opportunity of gaining 
experience to be won from pleasure itself abroad ; in 'those 
vernal seasons of the year, when the air is calm and pleasant, 
it were an injury and suUenness against nature not to go 
out, and see her riches, and partake in her rejoicing with 
heaven and earth. I should not therefore be a persuader to 
them of studying much then, after two or three years that 
they have well laid their grounds, but to ride out in com- 
panies with prudent and staid guides, to all the quarters of 
the land: learning and observing all places of strength, all 
commodities'"' of building and of soil, for towns and tillage, 
harbors and ports for trade. Sometimes taking sea as far 
as to our navy, to learn there also what they can in the 
practical knowledge of sailing and of sea-fight. These ways 
would try all their peculiar gifts of nature, and if there were 
any secret excellence among them, would fetch it out, and 

^ Unable to enlist recruits, ^ Spend in drinking. 

s» Steal. ^ Advantages. 



OF EDUCATION 259 

give it fair opportunities to advance itself by, which could 
not but mightily redound to the good of this nation, and 
bring into fashion again those old admired virtues and ex- 
cellencies, with far more advantage now in this purity of 
Christian knowledge. Nor shall we then need the monsieurs 
of Paris, to take our hopeful youth into their slight^^ and 
prodigal custodies and send them over back again trans- 
formed into mimics, apes, and kickshaws. But if they desire 
to see other countries at three or four and twenty years of 
age, not to learn principles but to enlarge experience, and 
make wise observation, they will by that time be such as 
shall deserve the regard and honor of all men where they 
pass, and the society and friendship of those in all places 
who are best and most eminent. And perhaps then other 
nations will be glad to visit us for their breeding, or else to 
imitate us in their own country. 

Now lastly for their diet there can not be much to say, 
save only that it would be best in the same house; for much 
time else would be lost abroad, and many ill habits got; and 
that it should be plain, healthful, and moderate I suppose is 
out of controversy. Thus Mr. Hartlih, you have a general 
view in writing, as your desire was, of that which at several 
times I had discoursed with any concerning the best and 
noblest way of education; not beginning as some have done 
from the cradle, which yet might be worth many considera- 
tions, if brevity had not been my scope, many other circum- 
stances also I could have mentioned, but this to such as have 
the worth in them to make trial, for light and direction may 
be enough. Only I believe that this is not a bow for every 
man to shoot in that counts himself a teacher; but will 
require sinews almost equal to those which Homer gave 
Ulysses, yet I am withal persuaded that it may prove much 
more easy in the assay,^^ than it now seems at distance, and 
much more illustrious: howbeit not more difficult than I 
imagine, and that imagination presents me with nothing but 
very happy and very possible according to best wishes; if 
God have so decreed, and this age have spirit and capacity 
enough to apprehend. 

d Evil. «2 Attempt. 



HCIII 



RELIGIO MEDICI 

BY 
SIR THOMAS BROWNE 



17 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 

Sir Thomas Browne was 'born in London on October ig, 
1605, educated at Winchester and Oxford, and trained for the 
practise of medicine. After traveling on the Continent he finally 
'settled as a physician in Norwich, and enjoyed a distinguished 
professional reputation. Later he became equally famous as 
a scholar and antiquary, and was knighted by Charles II on the 
occasion of the King's visit to Norwich in 1671. In 1641 he mar- 
ried, and he was survived by four of his ten children. He died 
on his seventy-seventh birthday. 

His "Religio Medici" seems to have been written about 1635, 
without being intended for publication. In 1642, however, two 
surreptitious editions appeared, and he was induced by the in- 
accuracies of these to issue an authorized edition in 1643. Since 
that time between thirty and forty editions have appeared, and 
the work has been translated into Latin, Dutch, French, Ger- 
man, and Italian. Of his other works the most famous are 
"Pseudodoxia Epidemica, or Enquiries into Vulgar Errors'^ 
(1646), a treatise of vast learning and much entertainment ; 
^'Hydriotaphia, or Urn Burial," a discourse on burial customs, 
which closes with a chapter on death and immortality, the 
majestic eloquence of which places Browne in the first rank of 
writers of English prose; and "The Garden of Cyrus," a fan- 
tastic account of horticulture from the Garden of Eden down 
to the time of Cyrus, King of Persia, with much discussion on 
the mystical significations of the number jive. His miscellaneous 
writings cover a great variety of subjects, religious, scientific, 
and antiquarian. 

The "Religio Medici" is an excellent typical example of the 
author's style. At once obscured and enriched by his individual 
and sometimes far-fetched vocabulary, his full and sonorous 
periods remain the delight of readers with an ear for the 
cadences of English prose. The matter of the book also reveals 
a personality of great charm and humor, a mind at once sur- 
prisingly acute and surprisingly credulous, and a character of 
an exalted nobility. 



TO THE READER 

Certainly that man were greedy of Life, who should desire 
to live when all the world were at an end; and he must needs 
be very impatient, who would repine at death in the society of 
all things that suffer under it. Had not almost every man 
suffered by the Press, or were not the tyranny thereof become 
universal, I had not wanted reason for complaint: but in times 
wherein I have lived to behold the highest perversion of that 
excellent invention, the name of his Majesty defamed, the 
Honour of Parliament depraved, the Writings of both depravedly, 
anticipatively, counterfeitly imprinted; complaints may seem 
ridiculous in private persons; and men of my condition may 
be as incapable of affronts, as hopeless of their reparations. 
And truely, had not the duty I owe unto the importunity of 
friends, and the allegiance I must ever acknowledge unto truth, 
prevailed with me, the inactivity of my disposition might have 
made these sufferings continual, and time, that brings other 
things to light, should have satisfied me in the remedy of its 
oblivion. But because things evidently false are not onely 
printed, but many things of truth most falsly set forth, in this 
latter I could not but think my self engaged: for, though we 
have no power to redress the former, yet in the other the repara- 
tion being within our selves, I have at present represented 
unto the world a full and intended Copy of that Piece, which 
was most imperfectly and surreptitiously published before. 

This, I confess, about seven years past, with some others of 
affinity thereto, for my private exercise and satisfaction, I had 
at leisurable hours composed; which being communicated unto 
one, it became common unto many, and was by Transcription 
successively corrupted, untill it arrived in a most depraved Copy 
at the Press. He that shall peruse that work, and shall take notice 
of sundry particularities and personal expressions therein, will 
easily discern the intention was not publick ; and, being a private 
Exercise directed to my self, what is delivered therein, was 
rather a memorial unto me, than an Example or Rule unto any 

263 



264 TO THE READER 

other; and therefore, if there be any singularity therein corre- 
spondent unto the private conceptions of any man, it doth not 
advantage them; or if dissentaneous^ thereunto, it no way over- 
throws them. It was penned in such a place, and with such 
disadvantage, that, (I protest,) from the first setting of pen 
unto paper, I had not the assistance of any good Book whereby 
to promote my invention or relieve my memory; and therefore 
there might be many real lapses therein, which others might 
take notice of, and more that I suspected my self. It was set 
down many years past, and was the sense of my conceptions 
at that time, not an immutable Law unto my advancing judge- 
ment at all times; and therefore there might be many things 
therein plausible unto my passed apprehension, which are not 
agreeable unto my present self. There are many things de- 
livered Rhetorically, many expressions therein meerly Tropical, 
and as they best illustrate my intention; and therefore also 
there are many things to be taken in a soft and flexible sense, 
and not to be called unto the rigid test of Reason. Lastly, all 
that is contained therein is in submission unto maturer discern- 
ments; and, as I have declared, shall no further father them 
than the best and learned judgments shall authorize them: under 
favour of which considerations I have made its secrecy publick, 
and committed the truth thereof to every Ingenuous Reader. 

THO. BROWNE. 

^Not in accordance. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 



THE FIRST PART 

FOR my Religion, though there be several Circumstances 
that might perswade the World I have none at all, (as 
the general scandal of my Profession,^ the natural 
course of my Studies, the indifferency of my Behaviour and 
Discourse in matters of Religion, neither violently Defend- 
ing one, nor with that common ardour and contention Op- 
posing another;) yet, in despight hereof, I dare without 
usurpation assume the honourable Stile of a Christian. Not 
that I meerly owe this Title to the Font, my Education, or 
the clime wherein I was born, (as being bred up either to 
confirm those Principles my Parents instilled into my un- 
wary Understanding, or by a general consent proceed in the 
Religion of my Country;) but having in my riper years and 
confirmed Judgment seen and examined all, I find my self 
obliged by the Principles of Grace, and the Law of mine own 
Reason, to embrace no other Name but this. Neither doth 
herein my zeal so far make me forget the general Charity I 
owe unto Humanity, as rather to hate than pity Turks, Infi- 
dels, and (what is worse,) Jews; rather contenting my self to 
enjoy that happy Stile, than maligning those who refuse so 
glorious a Title. 

II. But, because the Name of a Christian is become too gen- 
eral to express our Faith, (there being a Geography of Re- 
ligions as well as Lands, and every Clime distinguished not 
only by their Laws and Limits, but circumscribed by their 
Doctrines and Rules of Faith;) to be particular, I am of that 
Reformed new-cast Religion, wherein I dislike nothing but 
the Name ; of the same belief our Saviour taught, the Apos- 
' Cf. the saying, "Among three physicians, two atheists." 
265 



266 THOMAS BROWNE 

ties disseminated, the Fathers authorized, and the Martyrs 
confirmed; but by the sinister ends of Princes, the ambition 
and avarice of Prelates, and the fatal corruption of times, so 
decayed, impaired, and fallen from its native Beauty, that it 
required the careful and charitable hands of these times to 
restore it to its primitive Integrity. Now the accidental oc- 
casion whereupon, the slender means whereby, the low and 
abject condition of the Person^ by whom so good a work was 
set on foot, which in our Adversaries beget contempt and 
scorn, fills me with wonder, and is the very same Objection 
the insolent Pagans first cast at Christ and His Disciples. 

HI. Yet have I not so shaken hands with those desperate 
Resolutions,* (who had rather venture at large their decayed 
bottom, than bring her in to be new trimm'd in the Dock; 
who had rather promiscuously retain all, than abridge any, 
and obstinately be what they are, than what they have been,) 
as to stand in Diameter^ and Swords point with them. We 
have reformed from them, not against them; for (omitting 
those Improperations' and Terms of Scurrility betwixt us, 
which only difference our Affections, not not our Cause,) 
there is between us one common Name and Appellation, one 
Faith and necessary body of Principles common tO' us both ; 
and therefore I am not scrupulous to converse and live with 
them, to enter their Churches in defect of ours, and either 
pray with them, or for them. I could never perceive any 
rational Consequence from those many Texts which prohibit 
the Children of Israel to pollute themselves with the Temples 
of the Heathens ; we being all Christians, and not divided by 
such detested impieties as might prophane our Prayers, or 
the place wherein we make them; or that a resolved Con- 
science may not adore her Creator any where, especially in 
places devoted to His Service; where, if their Devotions 
offend Him, mine may please Him; if theirs prophane it, 
mine may hallow it. Holy- water and Crucifix (dangerous to 
common people,) deceive not my judgment, nor abuse my 
devotion at all. I am, I confess, naturally inclined to that 
which misguided Zeal terms Superstition. My common con- 
versation^ I do acknowledge austere, my behaviour full of 

3 Probably Luther is meant. * Persons who have resolved. 

5 Direct opposition. « Taunts. '^ Manner of life. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 267 

rigour, sometimes not without morosity ; yet at my Devotion 
I love to use the civility of my knee, my hat, and hand, with 
all those outward and sensible motions which may express or 
promote my invisible Devotion. I should violate my own arm 
rather than a Church ; nor willingly deface the name of Saint 
or Martyr. At the sight of a Cross or Crucifix I can dis- 
pense with my hat, but scarce with the thought or memory 
of my Saviour. I cannot laugh at, but rather pity, the fruit- 
less journeys of Pilgrims, or contemn the miserable condi- 
tions of Fryars; for, though misplaced in Circumstances, 
there is something in it of Devotion. I could never hear 
the Ave-Mary Bell without an elevation; or think it a suf- 
ficient warrant, because they erred in one circumstance, for 
me to err in all, that is, in silence and dumb contempt. 
Whilst, therefore, they directed their Devotions to Her, I 
offered mine to God, and rectified the Errors of their Prayers 
by rightly ordering mine own. At a solemn Procession I 
have wept abundantly, while my consorts, blind with opposi- 
tion and prejudice, have fallen into an excess of scorn and 
laughter. There are, questionless, both in Greek, Roman, 
and African Churches, Solemnities and Ceremonies, whereof 
the wiser Zeals do make a Christian use, and stand con- 
demned by us, not as evil in themselves, but as allurements 
and baits of superstition to those vulgar heads that look 
asquint on the face of Truth, and those unstable Judgments 
that cannot consist in the narrow point and centre of Virtue 
without a reel or stagger to the Circumference. 

IV. As there were many Reformers, so likewise many Ref- 
ormations ; every Country proceeding in a particular way and 
method, according as their national Interest, together with 
their Constitution and Clime, inclined them; some angrily, 
and with extremity; others calmly, and with mediocrity; not 
rending, but easily dividing the community, and leaving an 
honest possibility of a reconciliation; which though peace- 
able Spirits do desire, and may conceive that revolution of 
time and the mercies of God may effect, yet that judgment 
that shall consider the present antipathies between the two 
extreams, their contrarieties in condition, affection, and opin- 
ion, may with the same hopes expect an imion in the Poles of 
Heaven. 



268 THOMAS BROWNE 

V. But (to difference my self nearer, and draw into a 
lesser Circle,) there is no Church whose every part so squares 
unto my Conscience ; whose Articles, Constitutions, and Cus- 
toms seem so consonant unto reason, and as it were framed 
to my particular Devotion, as this whereof I hold my Belief, 
the Church of England; to whose Faith I am a sworn Sub- 
ject, and therefore in a double Obligation subscribe unto her 
Articles, and endeavour to observe her Constitutions. What- 
soever is beyond, as points indifferent, I observe according 
to the rules of my private reason, or the humor and fashion 
of my Devotion; neither believing this, because Luther af- 
firmed it, or disproving that, because Calvin hath disa- 
vouched it. I condemn not all things in the Council of 
Trent, nor approve all in the Synod of Dort. In brief, where 
the Scripture is silent, the Church is my Text; where that 
speaks, 'tis but my Comment: where there is a joynt silence 
of both, I borrow not the rules of my Religion from Rome 
or Geneva, but the dictates of my own reason. It is an un- 
just scandal of our adversaries, and a gross errour in our 
selves, to compute the Nativity of our Religion from Henry 
the Eighth, who, though he rejected the Pope, refus'd not 
the faith of Rome, and effected no more than what his own 
Predecessors desired and assayed in Ages past, and was con- 
ceived the State of Venice would have attempted in our> days. 
It is as uncharitable a point in us to fall upon those popular 
scurrilities and opprobrious scoffs of the Bishop of Rome, to 
whom, as a temporal Prince, we owe the duty of good lan- 
guage. I confess there is cause of passion between us: by 
his sentence I stand excommunicated; Heretick is the best 
language he affords me; yet can no ear witness I ever re- 
turned him the name of Antichrist, Man of Sin, or Whore of 
Babylon. It is the method of Charity to suffer without re- 
action: those usual Satyrs and invectives of the Pulpit may 
perchance produce a good effect on the vulgar, whose ears 
are opener to Rhetorick than Logick ; yet do they in no wise 
confirm the faith of wiser Believers, who know that a good 
cause needs not to be patron'd by passion, but can sustain 
itself upon a temperate dispute. 

VI. I could never divide myself from any man upon the 
difference of an opinion, or be angry with his judgment for 



RELIGIO MEDICI 26d 

not agreeing with me in that from which perhaps within a 
few days I should dissent my self. I have no Genius to dis- 
putes in Religion, and have often thought it wisdom to de- 
cline them, especially upon a disadvantage, or when the 
cause of Truth might suffer in the weakness of my patron- 
age. Where we desire to be informed, 'tis good to contest 
with men above our selves; but to confirm and establish our 
opinions, 'tis best to argue with judgments below our own, 
that the frequent spoils and Victories over their reasons may 
settle in ourselves an esteem and confirmed Opinion of our 
own. Every man is not a proper Champion for Truth, nor 
fit to take up the Gauntlet in the cause of Verity: many 
from the ignorance of these Maximes, and an inconsiderate 
Zeal unto Truth, have too rashly charged the Troops of 
Error, and remain as Trophies unto the enemies of Truth. 
A man may be in as just possession of Truth as of a City, 
and yet be forced to surrender; 'tis therefore far better to 
enjoy her with peace, than to hazzard her on a battle. If, 
therefore, there rise any doubts in my way, I do forget them, 
or at least defer them till my better setled judgement and 
more manly reason be able to resolve them; for I perceive 
every man's own reason is his best OEdipus, and will, upon a 
reasonable truce, find a way to loose those bonds where- 
with the subtleties of error have enchained our more flexible 
and tender judgements. In Philosophy, where Truth seems 
double-f ac'd, there is no man more Paradoxical than my self : 
but in Divinity I love to keep the Road; and, though not in 
an implicite, yet an humble faith, follow the great wheel of 
the Church, by which I move, not reserving any proper Poles 
or motion from the Epicycle^ of my own brain. By this 
means I leave no gap for Heresies, Schismes, or Errors, of 
which at present I hope I shall not injure Truth to say I 
have no taint or tincture. I must confess my greener studies 
have been polluted with two or three; not any begotten in 
the latter Centuries, but old and obsolete, such as could never 
have been revived, but by such extravagant and irregular 
heads as mine: for indeed Heresies perish not with their 
Authors, but, like the river Arethusa, though they lose their 
currents in one place, they rise up again in another. One 

• Astronomy, a smaller circle whose center describes a larger. 



270 THOMAS BROWNE 

General Council is not able to extirpate one single Heresie: 
it may be cancell'd for the present; but revolution of time, 
and the like aspects from Heaven, will restore it, when it 
will flourish till it be condemned again. For as though there 
were a Metempsuchosis, and the soul of one man passed into 
another, Opinions do find, after certain Revolutions, men 
and minds like those that first begat them. To see our selves 
again, we need not look for Plato's year:® every man is not 
only himself; there hath been many Diogenes, and as many 
Timons, though but few of that name: men are liv'd over 
again, the world is now as it was in Ages past; there was 
none then, but there hath been some one since that parallels 
him, and is, as it were, his revived self. 

VII. Now the first of mine was that of the Arabians, That 
the Souls of men perished with their Bodies, but should yet 
be raised again at the last day. Not that I did absolutely 
conceive a mortality of the Soul; but if that were, (which 
Faith, not Philosophy, hath yet throughly disproved,) and 
that both entred the grave together, yet I held the same 
conceit thereof that we all do of the body, that it should rise 
again. Surely it is but the merits of our unworthy Natures, 
if we sleep in darkness until the last Alarum. A serious 
reflex upon my own unworthiness did make be backward 
from challenging this prerogative of my Soul: so that I 
might enjoy my Saviour at the last, I could with patience 
be nothing almost unto Eternity. 

The second was that of Origen, That God would not per- 
sist in His vengeance for ever, but after a definite time of 
His wrath, He would release the damned Souls from torture. 
Which error I fell into upon a serious contemplation of the 
great Attribute of God, His Mercy; and did a little cherish 
it in my self, because I found therein no malice, and a ready 
weight to sway me from the other extream of despair, where- 
unto Melancholy and Contemplative Natures are too easily 
disposed. 

A third there is, which I did never positively maintain or 
practise, but have often wished it had been consonant to 
Truth, and not offensive to my Religion, and that is, the 

» A period of thousands of years, at the end of which all things should 
return to their fermer state. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 271 

Prayer for the Dead; whereunto I was inclin'd from some 
charitable inducements, whereby I could scarce contain my 
Prayers for a friend at the ringing of a Bell, or behold his 
Corps without an Orison for his Soul. 'Twas a good way, 
methought, to be remembered by posterity, and far more 
noble than an History. 

These opinions I never maintained with pertinacy, or en- 
deavoured to enveagle any mans belief unto mine, nor so 
much as ever revealed or disputed them with my dearest 
friends ; by which means I neither propagated them in others, 
nor confirmed them in my self; but suffering them to flame 
upon their own substance, without addition of new fuel, they 
went out insensibly of themselves. Therefore these Opin- 
ions, though condemned by lawful Councels, were not 
Heresies in me, but bare Errors, and single Lapses of my 
understanding, without a joynt depravity of my will. Those 
have not onely depraved understandings, but diseased affec- 
tions, which cannot enjoy a singularity without an Heresie, 
or be the Author of an Opinion without they be of a Sect 
also. This was the villany of the fiirst Schism of Lucifer, 
who was not content to err alone, but drew into his Faction 
many Legions of Spirits; and upon this experience he 
tempted only Eve, as well understanding the Communicable 
nature of Sin, and that to deceive but one, was tacitely and 
upon consequence to delude them both. 

Vni. That Heresies should arise, we have the Prophesie 
of Christ ; but that old ones should be abolished, we hold no 
prediction. That there must be Heresies, is true, not only 
in our Church, but also in any other : even in doctrines here- 
tical, there will be super-heresies; and Arians not only di- 
vided from their Church, but also among themselves. For 
heads that are disposed unto Schism and complexionally 
propense^" to innovation, are naturally indisposed for a com- 
munity, nor will be ever confined unto the order or ceconomy 
of one body ; and therefore, when they separate from others, 
they knit but loosely among themselves; nor contented with 
a general breach or dichotomy with their Church do subdi- 
vide and mince themselves almost into Atoms. 'Tis true, 
that men of singular parts and humours have not been 

1° Inclined by temperament. 



272 THOMAS BROWNE 

free from singular opinions and conceits in all Ages; re- 
taining something, not only beside the opinion of his own 
Church or any other, but also any particular Author ; which, 
notwithstanding, a sober Judgment may do without offence 
or heresie ; for there is yet, after all the Decrees of Councils 
and the niceties of the Schools, many things untouch'd, un- 
imagin'd, wherein the liberty of an honest reason may play 
and expatiate with security, and far without the circle of an 
Heresie. 

IX. As for those wingy Mysteries in Divinity, and airy 
subtleties in Religion, which have unhing'd the brains of 
better heads, they never stretched the Pia Mater^ of mine. 
Methinks there be not impossibilities enough in Religion for 
an active faith ; the deepest Mysteries ours contains have not 
only been illustrated, but maintained, by Syllogism and the 
rule of Reason. I love to lose my self in a mystery, to 
pursue my Reason to an O altitudo! 'Tis my solitary re- 
creation to pose my apprehension with those involved Enig- 
mas and riddles of the Trinity, with Incarnation, and Resur- 
rection. I can answer all the Objections of Satan and my 
rebelHous reason with that odd resolution I learned of 
Tertullian, Certum est, quia impossibile est. I desire to exer- 
cise my faith in the difficultest point; for to credit ordinary 
and visible objects is not faith, but perswasion. Some be- 
lieve the better for seeing Christ's Sepulchre; and, when 
they have seen the Red Sea, doubt not of the Miracle. 
Now, contrarily, I bless my self and am thankful that I lived 
not in the days of Miracles, that I never saw Christ nor 
His Disciples. I would not have been one of those Israelites 
that pass'd the Red Sea, nor one of Christ's patients on 
whom He wrought His wonders; then had my faith been 
thrust upon me, nor should I enjoy that greater blessing 
pronounced to all that believe and saw not. 'Tis an easie 
and necessary belief, to credit what our eye and sense hath 
examined. I believe He was dead, and buried, and rose again ; 
and desire to see Him in His glory, rather than to contem- 
plate Him in His Cenotaphe or Sepulchre. Nor is this much 
to believe; as we have reason, we owe this faith unto His- 
tory : they only had the advantage of a bold and noble Faith, 

^ A membrane surrounding the brain. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 273 

who lived before His coming, who upon obscure prophesies 
and mystical Types could raise a belief, and expect appa- 
rent impossibilities. 

X. 'Tis true, there is an edge in all firm belief, and with 
an easie Metaphor we may say, the Sword of Faith ; but in 
these obscurities I rather use it in the adjunct the Apostle 
gives it, a Buckler; under which I conceive a wary com- 
batant may lye invulnerable. Since I was of understanding 
to know we knew nothing, my reason hath been more pliable 
to the will of Faith; I am now content to understand a 
mystery without a rigid definition, in an easier and Pla- 
tonick description. That allegorical description of Hermes^ 
pleaseth me beyond all the Metaphysical definitions of 
Divines. Where I cannot satisfy my reason, I love to humour 
my fancy: I had as live you tell me that anima est angelus 
hominis, est Corpus Dei, [the soul is man's angel, God's 
body] as Entelechia;^ — Lux est umbra Dei, [Light is God's 
shadow] as actus perspicui^^ Where there is an obscurity 
too deep for our Reason, 'tis good to sit down with a de- 
scription, periphrasis, or adumbration; for by acquainting 
our Reason how unable it is to display the visible and obvious 
effects of Nature, it becomes more humble and submissive 
unto the subtleties of Faith; and thus I teach my haggard" 
and unreclaimed Reason to stoop unto the lure of Faith. I 
believe there was already a tree whose fruit our unhappy 
Parents tasted, though, in the same Chapter when God for- 
bids it, 'tis positively said, the plants of the field were not 
yet grown, for God had not caiis'd it to rain upon the earth. 
I believe that the Serpent, (if we shall literally understand 
it,) from his proper form and figure, made his motion on his 
belly before the curse. I find the tryal of the Pucellage and 
virginity of Women, which God ordained the Jews, is very 
fallible. Experience and History informs me, that not onely 
many particular Women, but likewise whole Nations, have 
escaped the curse of Childbirth, which God seems to pro- 
nounce upon the whole Sex. Yet do I believe that all this 

^ The description alluded to, " God is a sphere whose center is every- 
where and circumference nowhere," is said not to be found in the books 
which pass under the name of the fabulous Hermes Trismegistus. 

*^ Aristotle's word for " actual being." 

"The active force of the clear. 

** Intractable : used of a hawk. 



274 THOMAS BROWNE 

is true, which indeed my Reason would perswade me to be 
false ; and this I think is no vulgar part of Faith, to believe 
a thing not only above but contrary to Reason, and against 
the Arguments of our proper Senses. 

XI. In my solitary and retired imagination 

{neque enim cum porticus aut me 
Lectulus accepit^ desum mihi^ 

[for when porch or bed has received me, I do not lose myself] 

I remember I am not alone, and therefore forget not to con- 
template Him and His Attributes Who is ever with me, es- 
pecially those two mighty ones, His Wisdom and Eternity. 
With the one I recreate, with the other I confound, my un- 
derstanding; for who can speak of Eternity without a 
solcecism, or think thereof without an Extasie? Time we 
may comprehend; 'tis but five days elder then our selves, 
and hath the same Horoscope with the World; but to retire 
so far back as to apprehend a beginning, to give such an 
infinite start forwards as to conceive an end, in an essence 
that we afiirm hath neither the one nor the other, it puts my 
Reason to St. Paul's Sanctuary.^® My Philosophy dares not 
say the Angels can do it. God hath not made a Creature 
that can comprehend Him ; 'tis a privilege of His own nature. 
I AM THAT I AM, was His owu definition unto Moses; and 
'twas a short one, to confound mortality, that durst question 
God, or ask Him what He was. Indeed, He onely is; all 
others have and shall be. But in Eternity there is no dis- 
tinction of Tenses; and therefore that terrible term Pre- 
destination, which hath troubled so many weak heads to 
conceive, and the wisest to explain, is in respect to God no 
prescious" determination of our Estates to come, but a 
definitive blast of His Will already fulfilled, and at the in- 
stant that He first decreed it; for to His Eternity, which is 
indivisible and all together, the last Trump is already 
sounded, the reprobates in the flame, and the blessed in 
Abraham's bosome. St. Peter speaks modestly,^® when he 

^* This has been taken as a reference to Rom. xi. 33, but the exact mean- 
ing is uncertain. ^^ Foreknowing. ^^ Moderately. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 275 

saith, a thousand years to God are hut as one day; for, to 
speak like a Philosopher, those continued instances of time 
which flow into a thousand years, make not to Him one 
moment: what to us is to come, to His Eternity is present, 
His whole duration being but one permanent point, with- 
out Sucession, Parts, Flux, or Division. 

Xn. There is no Attribute that adds more difficulty to the 
mystery of the Trinity, where, though in a relative way of 
Father and Son, we must deny a priority. I wonder how 
Aristotle could conceive the World eternal, or how he could 
make good two Eternities. His similitude of a Triangle 
comprehended in a square doth somewhat illustrate the 
Trinity of our Souls, and that the Triple Unity of God; 
for there is in us not three, but a Trinity of Souls ; because 
there is in us, if not three distinct Souls, yet differing facul- 
ties, that can and do subsist apart in different Subjects, and 
yet in us are so united as to make but one Soul and sub- 
stance. 

If one Soul were so perfect as to inform three distinct 
Bodies, that were a petty Trinity : conceive the distinct num- 
ber of three, not divided nor separated by the intellect, but 
actually comprehended in its Unity, and that is a perfect 
Trinity. I have often admired the mystical way of Pytha- 
goras, and the secret Magick of numbers. Beware of Phi- 
losophy, is a precept not to be received in too large a sense ; 
for in this Mass of Nature there is a set of things that 
carry in their Front (though not in Capital Letters, yet in 
Stenography and short Characters,) something of Divinity, 
which to wiser Reasons serve as Luminaries in the Abyss 
of Knowledge, and to judicious beliefs as Scales" and 
Roundles"" to mount the Pinacles and highest pieces of Di- 
vinity. The severe Schools shall never laugh me out of the 
Philosophy of Hermes, that this visible World is but a Pic- 
ture of the invisible, wherein, as in a Pourtraict, things are 
not truely, but in equivocal shapes, and as they counterfeit 
some more real substance in that invisible fabrick. 

XIH. That other Attribute wherewith I recreate my devo- 
tion, is His Wisdom, in which I am happy ; and for the contem- 
plation of this only, do not repent me that I was bred in the 

i» Ladders. 20 Steps of a ladder. 



276 THOMAS BROWNE 

way of Study : the advantage I have of the vulgar, with the 
content and happiness I conceive therein, is an ample recom- 
pence for all my endeavours, in what part of knowledge so- 
ever. Wisdom is His most beauteous Attribute ; no man can 
attain unto it, yet Solomon pleased God when he desired it. 
He is wise, because He knows all things; and He knoweth 
all things, because He made them all : but His greatest knowl- 
edge is in comprehending that He made not, that is. Himself. 
And this is also the greatest knowledge in man. For this do 
I honour my own profession, and embrace the Counsel even 
of the Devil himself : had he read such a Lecture in Paradise 
as he did at Delphos,^ we had better known our selves, nor 
had we stood in fear to know him. I know He is wise in 
all, wonderful in what we conceive, but far more in what we 
comprehend not ; for we behold Him but asquint, upon reflex 
or shadow; our understanding is dimmer than Moses Eye; 
we are ignorant of the back -parts or lower side of His Di- 
vinity; therefore to prie into the maze of His Counsels is 
not only folly in man, but presumption even in Angels. Like 
us, they are His Servants, not His Senators; He holds no 
Counsel, but that mystical one of the Trinity, wherein, 
though there be three Persons, there is but one mind that 
decrees without contradiction. Nor needs He any: His 
actions are not begot with deliberation. His Wisdom nat- 
urally knows what's best; His intellect stands ready fraught 
with the superlative and purest Ideas of goodness ; consulta- 
tion and election, which are two motions in us, make but 
one in Him, His actions springing from His power at the 
first touch of His will. These are Contemplations meta- 
physical: my humble speculations have another Method, and 
are content to trace and discover those expressions He hath 
left in His Creatures, and the obvious effects of Nature. 
There is no danger to profound^ these mysteries, no sanctum 
sanctorum in Philosophy. The World was made to be in- 
habited by Beasts, but studied and contemplated by Man: 
'tis the Debt of our Reason we owe unto God, and the 
homage we pay for not being Beasts. Without this, the 
World is still as though it had not been, or as it was before 

81 " Know thyself." This, like other ancient oracles, Browne ascribes 
to the Devil. 22 plunge into. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 277 

the sixth day, when as yet there was not a Creature that 
could conceive or say there was a World. The. Wisdom of 
God receives small honour from those vulgar Heads that 
rudely stare about, and with a gross rusticity admire His 
works: those highly magnifie Him, whose judicious inquiry 
into His Acts, and deliberate research into His Creatures, 
return the duty of a devout and learned admiration. There- 
fore, 

Search while thou wilt, and let thy Reason go, 

To ransome Truth, even to th' Abyss below; 

Rally the scattered Causes ; and that line. 

Which Nature twists, be able to untwine. 

It is thy Makers will, for unto none 

But unto Reason can He e're be known. 

The Devils do know Thee, but those damned Meteors 

Build not Thy Glory, but confound Thy Creatures. 

Teach my indeavours so Thy works to read, 

That learning them in Thee, I may proceed. 

Give Thou my reason that instructive flight. 

Whose weary wings may on Thy hands still light. 

Teach me to soar aloft, yet ever so, 

When neer the Sun, to stoop again below. 

Thus shall my humble Feathers safely hover. 

And, though near Earth, more than the Heavens discover. 

And then at last, when homeward I shall drive, 

Rich with the Spoils of Nature, to my Hive, 

There will I sit like that industrious Flie, 

Buzzing Thy praises, which shall never die, 

Till Death abrupts them, and succeeding Glory 

Bid me go on in a more lasting story. 



And this is almost all wherein an humble Creature may 
endeavour to requite and some way to retribute^ unto his 
Creator: for if not he that saith, ''Lord, Lord," hut he that 
doth the will of his Father, shall he saved; certainly our wills 
must be our performances, and our intents make out our 
Actions; otherwise our pious labours shall find anxiety in 
our Graves, and our best endeavours not hope, but fear, a 
resurrection. 

XIV. There is but one first cause, and four second causes 
of all things. Some are without efficient, as God; others 
without matter, as Angels; some without form, as the first 

23 Render back. 
HCIII l8 



278 THOMAS BROWNE 

matter: but every Essence, created or uncreated, hath its 
final cause, and some positive end both of its Essence and 
Operation. This is the cause I grope after in the works of 
Nature; on this hangs the Providence of God. To raise so 
beauteous a structure as the World and the Creatures thereof, 
was but His Art; but their sundry and divided operations, 
with their predestinated ends, are from the Treasure of His 
Wisdom. In the causes, nature, and affections^ of the 
Eclipses of the Sun and Moon, there is most excellent specu- 
lation ; but to profound^ farther, and to contemplate a reason 
why His Providence hath so disposed and ordered their mo- 
tions in that vast circle as to conjoyn and obscure each other, 
is a sweeter piece of Reason, and a diviner point of Phi- 
losophy. Therefore sometimes, and in some things, there 
appears to me as much Divinity in Galen his books De Usu 
Partium, as in Suarez Metaphysicks. Had Aristotle been as 
curious in the enquiry of this cause as he was of the other, 
he had not left behind him an imperfect piece of Philosophy, 
but an absolute tract of Divinity. 

XV. Natura nihil agit frustra, [Nature does nothing in 
vain] is the only indisputed Axiome in Philosophy. There 
are no Grotesques in Nature ; not anything framed to fill up 
empty Cantons,^ and unnecessary spaces. In the most im- 
perfect Creatures, and such as were not preserved in the 
Ark, but, having their Seeds and Principles in the womb of 
Nature, are every where, where the power of the Sun is, in 
these is the Wisdom of His hand discovered. Out of this 
rank Solomon chose the object of his admiration. Indeed 
what Reason may not go to School to the wisdom of Bees, 
Ants, and Spiders ? what wise hand teacheth them to do what 
Reason cannot teach us? Ruder heads stand amazed at 
those prodigious pieces of Nature, Whales, Elephants, Dromi- 
daries and Camels; these, I confess, are the Colossus and 
majestick pieces of her hand: but in these narrow Engines 
there is more curious Mathematicks ; and the civility of these 
little Citizens more neatly sets forth the Wisdom of their 
Maker. Who admires not Regio-Montanus'' his Fly beyond 
his Eagle, or wonders not more at the operation of two 

22 Plunge into. ^ Influences. 25 Corners. . . ^ 

28 John Muller o£ Konigsberg (1636-75), who made an automatic iron fly 
on a wooden eagle. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 279 

Souls" in those little Bodies, than but one in the Trunk of 
a Cedar? I could never content my contemplations with 
those general pieces of wonder, the Flux and Reflux of the 
Sea, the increase of Nile, the conversion of the Needle to the 
North; and have studied to match and parallel those in the 
more obvious and neglected pieces of Nature, which without 
further travel I can do in the Cosmography of myself. We 
carry with us the wonders we seek without us: there is all 
Africa and her prodigies in us; we are that bold and ad- 
venturous piece of Nature, which he that studies wisely 
learns in a compendium what others labour at in a divided 
piece and endless volume. 

XVI. Thus there are two Books from whence I collect my 
Divinity; besides that written one of God, another of His 
servant Nature, that universal and publick Manuscript, that 
lies expans'd unto the Eyes of all : those that never saw Him 
in the one, have 'discovered Him in the other. This was the 
Scripture and Theology of the Heathens : the natural motion 
of the Sun made thenv more admire Him than its super- 
natural station did the Children of Israel; the ordinary 
effects of Nature wrought more admiration in them than in 
the other all His Miracles. Surely the Heathens knew 
better how to joyn and read these mystical Letters than we 
Christians, who cast a more careless Eye on these common 
Hieroglyphicks, and disdain to suck Divinity from the flow- 
ers of Nature. Nor do I so forget God as to adore the name 
of Nature; which I define not, with the Schools, to be the 
principle of motion and rest, but that streight and regular 
Hne, that settled and constant course the Wisdom of God 
hath ordained the actions of His creatures, according to their 
several kinds. To make a revolution every day is the Na- 
ture of the Sun, because of that necessary course which God 
hath ordained it, from which it cannot swerve but by a 
faculty from that voice which first did give it motion. Now 
this course of Nature God seldome alters or perverts, but, 
like an excellent Artist, hath so contrived His work, that 
with the self sam.e instrument, without a new creation. He 
may effect His obscurest designs. Thus He sweetneth the 
Water with a Wood,"^ preserveth the Creatures in the Ark, 

27 The sensitive and the vegetative. 28 Exod. xv. 25. 



280 THOMAS BROWNE 

which the blast of His mouth might have as easily created; 
for God is like a skilful Geometrician, who, when more easily 
and with one stroak of his Compass he might describe or 
divide a right line, had yet rather do this in a circle or longer 
way, according to the constituted and fore-laid principles of 
his Art. Yet this rule of His He doth sometimes pervert, 
to acquaint the World with His Prerogative, lest the ar- 
rogancy of our reason should question His power, and con- 
clude He could not. And thus I call the effects of Nature the 
works of God, Whose hand and instrument she only is; and 
therefore to ascribe His actions unto her, is to devolve the 
honour of the principal agent upon the instrument; which if 
with reason we may do, then let our hammers rise up and 
boast they have built our houses, and our pens receive the 
honour of our writings. I hold there is a general beauty in 
the works of God, and therefore no deformity in any kind or 
species of creature whatsoever. I cannot tell by what Logick 
we call a Toad, a Bear, or an Elephant ugly; they being 
created in those outward shapes and figures which best ex- 
press the actions of their inward forms, and having past 
that general Visitation^ of God, Who saw that all that He 
had made was good, that is, conformable to His Will, which 
abhors deformity, and is the rule of order and beauty. There 
is no deformity but in Monstrosity; wherein, notwithstand- 
ing, there is a kind of Beauty; Nature so ingeniously con- 
triving the irregular parts, as they become sometimes more 
remarkable than the principal Fabrick. To speak yet more 
narrowly, there was never any thing ugly or mis-shapen, but 
the Chaos; wherein, notwithstanding, (to speak strictly,) 
there was no deformity, because no form; nor was it yet im- 
pregnant by the voice of God. Now Nature is not at variance 
with Art, nor Art with Nature, they being both servants of 
His Providence. Art is the perfection of Nature. Were the 
World now as it was the sixth day, there were yet a Chaos. 
Nature hath made one World, and Art another. In brief, all 
things are artificial ; for Nature is the Art of God. 

XVH. This is the ordinary and open way of His Provi- 
dence, which Art and Industry have in a good part discov- 
ered; whose effects we may foretel without an Oracle: to 

* Inspection, Gen. i. 31. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 281 

foreshew these, is not Prophesie, but Prognostication. There 
is another way, full of Meanders and Labyrinths, whereof 
the Devil and Spirits have no exact Ephemerides f° and that 
is a more particular and obscure method of His Providence, 
directing the operations of individuals and single Essences: 
this we call Fortune, that serpentine and crooked line, where- 
by He draws those actions His Wisdom intends, in a more 
unknown and secret way. This cryptick and involved method 
of His Providence have I ever admired ; nor can I relate the 
History of my life, the occurrences of my days, the escapes 
of dangers, and hits of chance, with a Beso las Mano^ to 
Fortune, or a bare Gramercy to my good Stars. Abraham 
might have thought the Ram in the thicket came thither by 
accident ; humane*^ reason would have said that meer chance 
conveyed Moses in the Ark to the sight of Pharaoh's Daugh- 
ter: what a Labyrinth is there in the story of Joseph, able 
to convert a Stoick ! Surely there are in every man's Life 
certain rubs, doublings, and wrenches, which pass a while 
under the effects of chance, but at the last, well examined, 
prove the meer hand of God. 'Twas not dumb chance, that, 
to discover the Fougade or Powder-plot, contrived a mis- 
carriage in the Letter.^ I like the Victory of '88 the better 
for that one occurrence, which our enemies imputed to our 
dishonour and the partiality of Fortune, to wit, the tempests 
and contrariety of Winds. King Philip did not detract from 
the Nation, when he said, he sent his Armado to Ught with 
men, and not to combat e with the Winds. Where there is a 
manifest disproportion between the powers and forces of 
two several agents, upon a Maxime of reason we may prom- 
ise the Victory to the Superiour; but when unexpected ac- 
cidents slip in, and unthought of occurrences intervene, 
these must proceed from a power that owes no obedience to 
those Axioms; where, as in the writing upon the wall, we 
may behold the hand, but see not the spring that moves it. 
The success of that petty Province of Holland (of which the 
Grand Seignour" proudly said, if they should trouble him as 

so Tables of the daily state of the heavens, used as bases for prognos' 
tications. 

^ Spanish, " I kiss hands," an acknowledgment of favor received. 

33 Human. 

33 A miscarriage of the plot by means of the letter to Lord Monteagle, 
by which the plot was discovered. ^The Sultan of Turkey. 



282 THOMAS BROWNE 

they did the Spaniard, he would send his men with shovels 
and pick-axes, and throw it into the Sea,) I cannot alto- 
gether ascribe to the ingenuity and industry of the people, 
but the mercy of God, that hath disposed them to such a 
thriving Genius; and to the will of His Providence, that 
disposeth her favour to each Country in their pre-ordinate 
season. All cannot be happy at once ; for, because the glor}-- 
of one State depends upon the ruine of another, there is a 
revolution and vicissitude of their greatness, and must obey 
the swing of that wheel, not moved by Intelligences, but by 
the hand of God, whereby all Estates arise to their Zenith 
and Vertical points according to their predestinated periods. 
For the lives, not only of men, but of Commonwealths, and 
the whole World, run not upon an Helix,^ that still enlargeth, 
but on a Circle, where, arriving to their Meridian, they de- 
cHne in obscurity, and fall under the Horizon again. 

XVIH. These must not therefore be named the effects of 
Fortune, but in a relative way, and as we term the works of 
Nature. It was the ignorance of mans reason that begat this 
very name, and by a careless term miscalled the Providence 
of God; for there is no liberty for causes to operate in a 
loose and stragling way ; nor any effect whatsoever, but hath 
its warrant from some universal or superiour Cause. 'Tis not 
a ridiculous devotion to say a prayer before a game at 
Tables; for even in sortilegies^*^ and matters of greatest un- 
certainly, there is a setled and preordered course of effects. 
It is we that are blind, not Fortune : because our Eye is too 
dim to discover the mystery of her effects, we foolishly paint 
her blind, and hoodwink the Providence of the Almighty. I 
cannot justifie that contemptible Proverb, That fools only are 
Fortunate, or that insolent Paradox, That a wise man is out 
of the reach of Fortune; much less those opprobrious epithets 
of Poets, Whore, Bawd, and Strumpet. Tis, I confess, the 
common fate of men of singular gifts of mind to be destitute 
of those of Fortune, which doth not any way deject the 
Spirit of wiser judgements, who throughly understand the 
justice of this proceeding; and being inriched with higher 
donatives," cast a more careless eye on these vulgar parts of 
felicity. It is a most unjust ambition to desire to engross 

« Spiral. 8« Drawing lots. ^^ Gifts. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 283 

the mercies of the Almighty, not to be content with the 
goods of mind, without a possession of those of body or For- 
tune; and it is an error worse than heresie, to adore these 
complemental and circumstantial pieces of felicity, and un- 
dervalue those perfections and essential points of happiness 
wherein we resemble our Maker. To wiser desires it is satis- 
faction enough to deserve, though not to enjoy, the favours 
of Fortune: let Providence provide for Fools. 'Tis not 
partiality, but equity in God, Who deals with us but as our 
natural Parents : those that are able of Body and Mind He 
leaves to their deserts ; to those of weaker merits He imparts a 
larger portion, and pieces out the defect of one by the excess 
of the other. Thus have we no just quarrel with Nature for 
leaving us naked; or to envy the Horns, Hoofs, Skins, and 
Furs of other Creatures, being provided with Reason, that 
can supply them all. We need not labour with so many 
Arguments to confute Judicial Astrology ; for, if there be a 
truth therein, it doth not injure Divinity. If to be born 
under Mercury disposeth us to be witty, under Jupiter to be 
wealthy ; I do not owe a Knee unto these, but unto that mer- 
ciful Hand that hath ordered my indifferent and uncertain 
nativity unto such benevolous Aspects. Those that hold that all 
things are governed by Fortune, had not erred, had they not 
persisted^ there. The Romans, that erected a Temple to 
Fortune, acknowledged therein, though in a blinder way, 
somewhat of Divinity ; for, in a wise supputation,^ all things 
begin and end in the Almighty. There is a nearer way to 
Heaven than Homer's Chain ;*° an easie Logic may conjoyn 
Heaven and Earth in one Argument, and with less than a 
Sorites*^ resolve all things into God. For though we christen 
effects by their most sensible*^ and nearest Causes, yet is 
God the true and infallible Cause of all; whose concourse,*^ 
though it be general, yet doth it subdivide it self into the 
particular Actions of every thing, and is that Spirit, by which 
each singular Essence not only subsists, but performs its 
operation. 

XIX. The bad construction and perverse comment on 
these pair of second Causes, or visible hands of God, have 

38 Stood still. 38 Calculation. " Iliad viii. 19. 

*^ A series of syllogisms. " Perceptible to sense. *» Cooperation. 



284 THOMAS BROWNE 

perverted the Devotion of many unto Atheism; who, for- 
getting the honest Advisoes** of Faith, have Hstened unto the 
conspiracy of Passion and Reason. I have therefore always 
endeavoured to compose those Feuds and angry Dissentions 
between Affection, Faith, and Reason; for there is in our 
Soul a kind of Triumvirate, or triple Government of three 
Competitors, which distract the Peace of this our Common- 
wealth, not less than did that other the State of Rome. 

As Reason is a Rebel unto Faith, so Passion unto Reason : 
as the propositions of Faith seem absurd unto Reason, so 
the Theorems of Reason unto Passion, and both unto Faith. 
Yet a moderate and peaceable discretion may so state and 
order the matter, that they may be all Kings, and yet make 
but one Monarchy, every one exercising his Soveraignty and 
Prerogative in a due time and place, according to the re- 
straint and limit of circumstance. There is, as in Philo- 
sophy, so in Divinity, sturdy doubts and boisterous Objec- 
tions, wherewith the unhappiness of our knowledge too 
nearly acquainteth us. More of these no man hath known 
than myself, which I confess I conquered, not in a martial 
posture, but on my Knees. For our endeavours are not only 
to combat with doubts, but always to dispute with the Devil. 
The villany of that Spirit takes a hint of Infidelity from our 
Studies, and, by demonstrating a naturality in one way, makes 
us mistrust a miracle in another. Thus, having perused the 
Archidoxis^ and read the secret Sympathies of things, he 
would disswade my belief from the miracle of the Brazen 
Serpent, make me conceit that Image worked by Sympathy, 
and was but an Egyptian trick to cure their Diseases with- 
out a miracle. Again, having seen some experiments of 
Bitumen, and having read far more of Naphtha, he whis- 
pered to my curiosity the fire of the Altar might be natural ; 
and bid me mistrust a miracle in Elias, when he entrenched 
the Altar round with Water;* for that inflamable substance 
yields not easily unto Water, but flames in the Arms of its 
Antagonist. And thus would he inveagle my belief to think 
the combustion of Sodom might be natural, and that there 
was an Asphaltick and Bituminous nature in that Lake be- 
fore the Fire of Gomorrah. I know that Manna is now 

** Admonitions. *'^ A work by Paracelsus. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 285 

plentifully gathered in Calabria; and Josephus tells me, in 
his days it was as plentiful in Arabia; the Devil therefore 
made the qucsre. Where was then the miracle in the days of 
Mosesf the Israelites saw hut that in his time, the Natives 
of those Countries behold in ours. Thus the Devil played at 
Chess with me, and yielding a Pawn, thought to gain a 
Queen of me, taking advantage of my honest endeavours; 
and whilst I laboured to raise the structure of my Reason, 
he strived to undermine the edifice of my Faith. 

XX. Neither had these or any other ever such advantage of 
me, as to incline me to any point of Infidelity or desperate 
positions of Atheism; for I have been these many years of 
opinion there was never any. Those that held Religion was 
the difference of Man from Beasts, have spoken probably, 
and proceed upon a principle as inductive as the other. That 
doctrine of Epicurus, that denied the Providence of God, was 
no Atheism, but a magnificent and high strained conceit of 
His Majesty, which he deemed too sublime to mind the 
trivial Actions of those inferiour Creatures. That fatal 
Necessity of the Stoicks is nothing but the immutable Law 
of His Will. Those that heretofore denied the Divinity of 
the Holy Ghost, have been condemned but as Hereticks; 
and those that now deny our Saviour, (though more than 
Hereticks,) are not so much as Atheists; for, though they 
deny two persons in the Trinity, they hold, as we do, there 
is but one God. 

That Villain and Secretary of Hell,*® that composed that 
miscreant piece Of the Three Impostors, though divided 
from all Religions, and was neither Jew, Turk, nor Chris- 
tian, was not a positive Atheist. I confess every Country 
hath its Machiavel, every age its Lucian, whereof common 
Heads must not hear, nor more advanced Judgments too 
rashly venture on: it is the Rhetorick of Satan, and may 
pervert a loose or prejudicate belief. 

XXI. I confess I have perused them all, and can discover 
nothing that may startle a discreet belief; yet are there 
heads carried off with the Wind and breath of such motives. 
I remember a Doctor in Physick, of Italy, who could not 
perfectly believe the immortality of the Soul, because Galen 

*8 Name unknown. 



286 THOMAS BROWNE 

seemed to make a doubt thereof. With another I was fa- 
miliarly acquainted in France, a Divine, and a man of sin- 
gular parts, that on the same point was so plunged and 
gravelled with three lines of Seneca, that all our Antidotes, 
drawn from both Scripture and Philosophy, could not expel 
the poyson of his errour. There are a set of Heads, that 
can credit the relations of Mariners, yet question the Testi- 
monies of St. Paul ; and peremptorily maintain the traditions 
of ^lian or Pliny, yet in Histories of Scripture raise Queries 
and Objections, believing no more than they can parallel in 
humane^ Authors. I confess there are in Scripture Stories 
that do exceed the Fables of Poets, and to a captious Reader 
sound like Garagantua or Bevis. Search all the Legends of 
times past, and the fabulous conceits of these present, and 
'twill be hard to find one that deserves to carry the Buckler 
unto Sampson; yet is all this of an easie possibility, if we 
conceive a Divine concourse,^ or an influence but from the 
little Finger of the Almighty. It is impossible that either in 
the discourse of man, or in the infallible Voice of God, to 
the weakness of our apprehensions, there should not appear 
irregularities, contradictions, and antinomies :" my self could 
shew a Catalogue of doubts, never yet imagined nor ques- 
tioned, as I know, which are not resolved at the first hear- 
ing; not fantastick Queries or Objections of Air; for, I can- 
not hear of Atoms in Divinity. I can read the History of 
the Pigeon that was sent out of the Ark, and returned no 
more, yet not question how she found out her Mate that was 
left behind: that Lazarus was raised from the dead, yet not 
demand where in the interim his Soul awaited; or raise a 
Lawcase, whether his Heir might lawfully detain his in- 
heritance bequeathed unto him by his death, and he, though 
restored to life, have no Plea or Title unto his former pos- 
sessions. Whether Eve was framed out of the left side 
of Adam, I dispute not; because I stand not yet assured 
which is the right side of a man, or whether there be any 
such distinction in Nature: that she was edified out of the 
Rib of Adam I believe, yet raise no question who shall arise 
with that Rib at the Resurrection. Whether Adam was an 
Hermaphrodite, as the Rabbins contend upon the Letter of 

^ Human. ' Cooperation. ^'' Contradictions of natural law. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 287 

the Text, because it is contrary to reason, there should be 
an Hermaphrodite before there was a Woman, or a com- 
position of two Natures before there was a second composed. 
Likewise, whether the World was created in Autumn, Sum- 
mer, or the Spring, because it was created in them all; for 
whatsoever Sign the Sun possesseth, those four Seasons are 
actually existent. It is the nature of this Luminary to dis- 
tinguish the several Seasons of the year, all which it makes 
at one time in the whole Earth, and successive in any part 
thereof. There are a bundle of curiosities, not only in Phi- 
losophy, but in Divinity, proposed and discussed by men of 
most supposed abilities, which indeed are not worthy our 
vacant hours, much less our serious Studies: Pieces only fit 
to be placed in PantagrueVs Library, or bound up with 
Tartaretus De modo Cacandi.^^ 

XXII. These are niceties that become not those that 
peruse so serious a Mystery. There are others more gener- 
ally questioned and called to the Bar, yet methinks of an 
easie and possible truth. 

'Tis ridiculous to put off or drown the general Flood of 
Noah in that particular inundation of Deucalion. That there 
was a Deluge once, seems not to me so great a Miracle, as 
that there is not one always. How all the kinds of Creatures, 
not only in their own bulks, but with a competency of food 
and sustenance, might be preserved in one Ark, and within 
the extent of three hundred Cubits, to a reason that rightly 
examines it will appear very feasible. There is another 
secret, not contained in the Scripture, which is more hard 
to comprehend, and put the honest Father*^ to the refuge of 
a Miracle; and that is, not only how the distinct pieces of 
the World and divided Islands, should be first planted by 
men, but inhabited by Tigers, Panthers, and Bears. How 
America abounded with Beasts of prey and noxious Animals, 
yet contained not in it that necessary Creature, a Horse, 
is very strange. By what passage those, not only Birds, but 
dangerous and unwelcome Beasts, came over; how there 
be Creatures there, which are not found in this Triple Con- 
tinent; (all which must needs be strange unto us, that hold 

*8The title of an imaginary book in the list given by Rabelais in his 
" Pantagruel." *® St. Augustine. 



288 THOMAS BROWNE 

but one Ark, and that the Creatures began their progress 
from the Mountains of Ararat:) they who, to salve this, 
would make the Deluge particular, proceed upon a principle 
that I can no way grant ; not only upon the negative of Holy 
Scriptures, but of mine own Reason, whereby I can make 
it probable, that the World was as well peopled in the time 
of Noah as in ours; and fifteen hundred years to people the 
World, as full a time for them, as four thousand years since 
have been to us. 

There are other assertions and common Tenents drawn 
from Scripture, and generally believed as Scripture, where- 
unto, notwithstanding, I would never betray the liberty oi 
my Reason. 'Tis a Postulate to me, that Methusalem was 
the longest liv'd of all the Children of Adam; and no man 
will be able to prove it, when, from the process of the Text, 
I can manifest it may be otherwise. That Judas perished 
by hanging himself, there is no certainty in Scripture: 
though in one place it seems to affirm it, and by a doubtful 
word hath given occasion to translate it; yet in another 
place, in a more punctual description, it makes it improbable, 
and seems to overthrow it. That our Fathers, after the 
Flood, erected the Tower of Babel to preserve themselves 
against a second Deluge, is generally opinioned and believed ; 
yet is there another intention of theirs expressed in Scrip- 
ture: besides, it is improbable from the circumstances of the 
place, that is, a plain in the Land of Shinar. These are no 
points of Faith, and therefore may admit a free dispute. 

There are yet others, and those familiarly concluded from 
the text, wherein (under favour,) I see no consequence. 
The Church of Rome confidently proves the opinion of Tute- 
lary Angels from that Answer, when Peter knockt at the 
Door, *Tis not he, but his Angel; that is (might some say,) 
his Messenger, or some body from him; for so the Original 
signifies, and is as likely to be the doubtful Families meaning. 
This exposition I once suggested to a young Divine, that 
answered upon this point ; to which I remember the Francis- 
can Opponent replyed no more, but That it was a new, and 
no authentick interpretation. 

XXIII. These are but the conclusions and fallible dis- 
courses of man upon the Word of God, for such I do believe 



RELIGIO MEDICI 289 

the Holy Scriptures: yet, were it of man, I could not chuse 
but say, it was the singularest and superlative piece that 
hath been extant since the Creation. Were I a Pagan, I 
should not refrain the Lecture** of it; and cannot but com- 
mend the judgment of Ptolomy,"^ and thought not his 
Library compleat without it. The Alcoran of the Turks (I 
speak without prejudice,) is an ill composed Piece, contain- 
ing in vain and ridiculous Errors in Philosophy, impossi- 
bilities, fictions, and vanities beyond laughter, maintained by 
evident and open Sophisms, the Policy of Ignorance, deposi- 
tion of Universities, and banishment of Learning, that hath 
gotten Foot by Arms and violence : this without a blow hath 
disseminated it self through the whole Earth. It is not un- 
remarkable what Philo first observed, that the Law of Moses 
continued two thousand years without the least alteration ; 
whereas, we see the Laws of other Common-weals do alter 
with occasions; and even those that pretended their original 
from some Divinity, to have vanished without trace or 
memory. I believe, besides Zoroaster, there were divers that 
writ before Moses, who, notwithstanding, have suffered the 
common fate of time. Mens Works have an age like them- 
selves; and though they out-live their Authors, yet have 
they a stint^^ and period to their duration: this only is a 
work too hard for the teeth of time, and cannot perish but 
in the general Flames, when all things shall confess their 
Ashes. 

XXIV. I have heard some with deep sighs lament the 
lost lines of Cicero; others with as many groans deplore the 
combustion of the Library of Alexandria: for my own part, 
I think there be too many in the World, and could with pa- 
tience behold the urn and ashes of the Vatican, could I, 
with a few others, recover the perished leaves of Solomon. 
I would not omit a copy of Enoch's Pillars," had they many 
nearer Authors than Josephus, or did not relish somewhat 
of the Fable. Some men have written more than others have 
spoken; Pineda" quotes more Authors in one work, than are 
necessary in a whole World. Of those three great inven- 

«> Reading. ^i King of Egypt. »» Limit, 

""Josephus says that the descendants of Seth erected two pillars on which 
all human inventions so far made were engraved. 
"Juan de Pineda published his " Monarchia Ecclesiastica " in 1588. 



290 THOMAS BROWNE 

tions" in Germany, there are two which are not without 
their incommodities, and 'tis disputable whether they exceed 
not their use and commodities. 'Tis not a melancholy 
Utinam^ of my own, but the desires of better heads, that 
there were a general Synod; not to unite the incompatible 
difference of Religion, but for the benefit of learning, to 
reduce it as it lay at first, in a few and solid Authors; and 
to condemn to the fire those swarms and millions of Rhap- 
sodies, begotten only to distract and abuse the weaker judge- 
ments of Scholars, and to maintain the trade and mystery 
of Typographers. 

XXV. I cannot but wonder with what exception the Sa- 
maritans could confine their belief to the Pentateuch, or five 
Books of Moses. I am ashamed at the Rabbinical Interpre- 
tation of the Jews upon the Old Testament, as much as their 
defection from the New : and truly it is beyond wonder, how 
that contemptible and degenerate issue of Jacob, once so de- 
voted to Ethnick^' Superstition, and so easily seduced to the 
Idolatry of their Neighbours, should now in such an ob- 
stinate and peremptory belief adhere unto their own Doc- 
trine, expect impossibilities, and, in the face and eye- of the 
Church, persist without the least hope of Conversion. This 
is a vice in them, that were a vertue in us; for obstinacy 
in a bad Cause is but constancy in a good. And herein I 
must accuse those of my own Religion, for there is not any 
of such a fugitive Faith, such an unstable belief, as a Chris- 
tian; none that do so oft transform themselves, not unto 
several shapes of Christianity and of the same Species, but 
unto more unnatural and contrary Forms of Jew and Ma- 
hometan ; that, from the name of Saviour , can condescend to 
the bare term of Prophet; and, from an old belief that He 
is come, fall to a new expectation of His coming. It is the 
promise of Christ to make us all one Flock; but how and 
when this Union shall be, is as obscure to me as the last day. 
Of those four Members of Religion^^ we hold a slender pro- 
portion. There are, I confess, some new additions, yet small 
to those which accrew to our Adversaries, and those only 
drawn from the revolt of Pagans, men but of negative Im- 

^ One MS. explains these as guns, printing, and the mariner's compass, 
"Latin, would that! ^7 Gentile. ^s pagans, Mohammedans, Jews, 

and Christians. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 291 

pieties, and such as deny Christ, but because they never 
heard of Him. But the Religion of the Jew is expresly 
against the Christian, and the Mahometan against both. For 
the Turk, in the bulk he now stands, he is beyond all hope 
of conversion; if he fall asunder, there may be conceived 
hopes, but not without strong improbabilities. The Jew 
is obstinate in all fortunes ; the persecution of fifteen hundred 
years hath but confirmed them in their Errour: they have 
already endured whatsoever may be inflicted, and have suf- 
fered in a bad cause, even to the condemnation of their ene- 
mies. Persecution is a bad and indirect way to plant Religion : 
it hath been the unhappy method of angry Devotions,^" not 
only to confirm honest Religion, but wicked Heresies, and 
extravagant Opinions. It was the first stone and Basis of 
our Faith; none can more justly boast of Persecutions, and 
glory in the number and valour of Martyrs. For, to speak 
properly, those are true and almost only examples of forti- 
tude: those that are fetch'd from the field, or drawn from 
the actions of the Camp, are not oft-times so truely prec- 
edents of valour as audacity, and at the best attain but 
to some bastard piece of fortitude. If we shall strictly 
examine the circumstances and requisites which Aristotle 
requires to true and perfect valour, we shall find the 
name only in his Master, Alexander, and as little in that 
Roman Worthy, JuHus Caesar; and if any in that easie 
and active way have done so nobly as to deserve that name, 
yet in the passive and more terrible piece these have sur- 
passed, and in a more heroical way may claim the honour 
of that Title. 'Tis not in the power of every honest Faith 
to proceed thus far, or pass to Heaven through the flames. 
Every one hath it not in that full measure, nor in so auda- 
cious and resolute a temper, as to endure those terrible tests 
and trials; who, notwithstanding, in a peaceable way, do 
truely adore their Saviour, and have (no doubt,) a Faith 
acceptable in the eyes of God. 

XXVI. Now, as all that dye in tlie War are not termed 
Souldiers; so neither can I properly term all those that 
suffer in matters of Religion, Martyrs. The Council of 
Constance condemns John Huss for an Heretick; the Stories 

^ Devotees. 



292 THOMAS BROWNE 

of his own Party stile him a Martyr: he must needs offend 
the Divinity of both, that says he was neither the one nor 
the other. There are many (questionless), canonized on 
earth, that shall never be Saints in Heaven ; and have their 
names in Histories and Martyrologies, who in the eyes of 
God are not so perfect Martyrs as was that wise Heathen, 
Socrates, that suffered on a fundamental point of Religion, 
the unity of God. I have often pitied the miserable Bishop** 
that suffered in the cause of Antipodes ; yet cannot chuse but 
accuse him of as much madness, for exposing his living on 
such a trifle, as those of ignorance and folly, that condemned 
him. I think my conscience will not give me the lye, if I 
say there are not many extant that in a noble way fear the 
face of death less than myself; yet, from the moral duty 
I owe to the Commandment of God, and the natural respects 
that I tender unto the conservation of my essence and being, 
I would not perish upon a Ceremony, Politick points, or in- 
differency: nor is my belief of that untractible temper, as 
not to bow at their obstacles, or connive at matters wherein 
there are not manifest impieties. The leaven, therefore, and 
ferment of all, not only civil but Religious actions, is 
Wisdom ; without which, to commit our selves to the flames 
is Homicide, and (I fear,) but to pass through one fire into 
another. 

XXVn. That Miracles are ceased, I can neither prove, 
nor absolutely deny, much less define the time and period 
of their cessation. That they survived Christ, is manifest 
upon the Record of Scripture; that they out-lived the 
Apostles also, and were revived at the Conversion of Nations 
many years after, we cannot deny, if we shall not question 
those Writers whose testimonies we do not controvert in 
points that make for our own opinions. Therefore that may 
have some truth in it that is reported by the Jesuites of 
their Miracles in the Indies; I could wish it were true, or 
had any other testimony than their own Pens. They may 
easily believe those Miracles abroad, who daily conceive a 
greater at home, the transmutation of those visible elements 
into the Body and Blood of our Saviour. For the conversion 

*^ Virgilius, Bishop of Salzburg in the 8th century, was said to have 
asserted the existence of the Antipodes. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 293 

of Water into Wine, which He wrought in Cana, or, what 
the Devil would have had Him done in the Wilderness, of 
Stones into Bread, compared to this, will scarce deserve the 
name of a Miracle: though indeed, to speak properly, there 
is not one Miracle greater than another, they being the 
extraordinary effects of the Hand of God, to which all things 
are of an equal facility; and to create the World, as easie 
* as one single Creature. For this is also a Miracle, not onely 
to produce effects against or above Nature, but before Na- 
ture; and to create Nature, as great a Miracle as to con- 
tradict or transcend her. We do too narrowly define the 
Power of God, restraining it to our capacities. I hold that 
God can do all things; how He should work contradictions, 
I do not understand, yet dare not therefore deny. I cannot 
see why the Angel of God should question Esdras to recal 
the time past, if it were beyond His own power ; or that God 
should pose mortality in that which He was not able to per- 
form Himself. I will not say God cannot, but He will not, 
perform many things, which we plainly afhrm He cannot. 
This, I am sure, is the mannerliest proposition, wherein, not- 
withstanding, I hold no Paradox; for, strictly. His power 
is the same with His will, and they both, with all the rest, 
do make but one God. 

XXVni. Therefore that Miracles have been, I do be- 
lieve; that they may yet be wrought by the living, I do not 
deny; but have no confidence in those which are fathered 
on the dead. And this hath ever made me suspect the 
efficacy of reliques, to examine the bones, question the habits 
and appurtenances of Saints, and even of Christ Himself. 
I cannot conceive why the Cross that Helena found, and 
whereon Christ Himself dyed, should have power to restore 
others unto life. I excuse not Constantine from a fall off 
his Horse, or a mischief from his enemies, upon the wearing 
those nails on his bridle, which our Saviour bore upon the 
Cross in His Hands. I compute among your Pics fraudes^^ 
nor many degrees before consecrated Swords and Roses, 
that which Baldwyn, King of Jerusalem, returned the Geno- 
vese for their cost and pains in his War, to wit, the ashes 
of John the Baptist. Those that hold the sanctity of their 

•^ Pious frauds. 
HO III 19 



294 THOMAS BROWNE 

Souls doth leave behind a tincture and sacred faculty on 
their bodies, speak naturally of Miracles, and do not salve 
the doubt. Now one reason I tender so little Devotion unto 
Reliques, is, I think, the slender and doubtful respect I have 
alv^ays held unto Antiquities. For that indeed v^hich I ad- 
mire, is far before Antiquity, that is, Eternity; and that is, 
God Himself; Who, though He be styled the Ancient of 
Days, cannot receive the adjunct of Antiquity; Who was 
before the World, and shall be after it, yet is not older than 
it; for in His years there is no Climacter;®^ His duration is 
Eternity, and far more venerable than Antiquity. 

XXIX. But above all things I wonder how the curiosity 
of wiser heads could pass that great and indisputable 
Miracle, the cessation of Oracles; and in what swoun their 
Reasons lay, to content themselves and sit down with such 
a far-fetch'd and ridiculous reason as Plutarch alleadgeth 
for it. The Jews, that can believe the supernatural Solstice 
of the Sun in the days of Joshua, have yet the impudence 
to deny the EcHpse, which every Pagan confessed, at His 
death: but for this, it is evident beyond all contradiction, 
the Devil himself confessed it.^ Certainly it is not a war- 
rantable curiosity, to examine the verity of Scripture by 
the concordance of humane history, or seek to confirm the 
Chronicle of Hester or Daniel, by the authority of Megas- 
thenes or Herodotus. I confess, I have had an tmhappy 
curiosity this way, till I laughed my self out of it with a 
piece of Justine, where he delivers that the Children of 
Israel for being scabbed were banished out of Egypt. And 
truely since I have understood the occurrences of the World, 
and know in what counterfeit shapes and deceitful vizards 
times present represent on the stage things past, I do believe 
them little more then things to come. Some have been of 
my opinion, and endeavoured to write the History of their 
own lives; wherein Moses hath outgone them all and left 
not onely the story of his life, but (as some will have it,) 
of his death also. 

XXX. It is a riddle to me, how this story of Oracles hath 
not worm'd out of the World that doubtful conceit of Spirits 

•2 The point in a man's life when his powers begin to decay. 
** " In his oracle to Augustus." — T- B- 



RELIGIO MEDICI 295 

and Witches; how so many learned heads should so far 
forget their Metaphysicks, and destroy the ladder and scale 
of creatures, as to question the existence of Spirits. For 
my part, I have ever believed, and do now know, that there 
are Witches: they that doubt of these, do not onely deny 
them, but Spirits; and are obliquely and upon consequence 
a sort not of Infidels, but Atheists. Those that to confute 
their incredulity desire to see apparitions, shall questionless 
never behold any, nor have the power to be so much as 
Witches; the Devil hath them already in a heresie as capital 
as Witchcraft; and to appear to them, were but to convert 
them. Of all the delusions wherewith he deceives morality, 
there is not any that puzzleth me more than the Legerdemain 
of Changelings. I do not credit those transformations of 
reasonable creatures into beasts, or that the Devil hath a 
power to transpeciate^ a man into a Horse, who tempted 
Christ (as a trial of His Divinity,) to convert but stones 
into bread. I could beHeve that Spirits use with man the 
act of carnality, and that in both sexes; I conceive they 
may assume, steal, or contrive a body, wherein there may 
be action enough to content decrepit Ijpst, or passion to sat- 
isfie more active veneries ;^ yet, in both, without a possibility 
of generation: and therefore that opinion that Antichrist 
should be born of the Tribe of Dan by conjunction with the 
Divil, is ridiculous, and a conceit fitter for a Rabbin than 
a Christian. I hold that the Devil doth really possess some 
men, the spirit of Melancholy others, the spirit of Delusion 
others; that, as the Devil is concealed and denyed by some, 
so God and good Angels are pretended by others, whereof 
the late defection^^ of the Maid of Germany hath left a preg- 
nant example. 

XXXI. Again, I believe that all that use sorceries, in- 
cantations, and spells, are not Witches, or, as we term them. 
Magicians. I conceive there is a traditional Magick, not 
learned immediately from the Devil, but at second hand from 
his Scholars, who, having once the secret betrayed, are able, 
and do emperically practise without his advice, they both 
proceeding upon the principles of Nature; where actives, 

" Transform. '^ Sexual desires. 

*" MS. copies read " detection." The allusion has not been explained. 



~m 



296 THOMAS BROWNE 

aptly conjoyed to disposed passives, will under any Master 
produce their effects. Thus I think at first a great part of 
Philosophy was Witchcraft; which, being aftervyard derived 
to one another, proved but Philosophy, and was indeed no 
more but the honest effects of Nature: what, invented by 
us, is Philosophy, learned from him, is Magick. We do 
surely owe the discovery of many secrets to the discovery 
of good and bad Angels. I could never pass that sentence of 
Paracelsus without an asterisk or annotation; Ascendens 
constellatum multa revelat qucBrentibus magnalia naturce, (i. e. 
opera Dei.)^^ [The ascending constellation reveals to in- 
quirers many of nature's great things.] I do think that many 
mysteries ascribed to our own inventions have been the 
courteous revelations of Spirits; (for those noble essences in 
Heaven bear a friendly regard unto their fellow Natures on 
Earth;) and therefore believe that those many prodigies and 
ominous prognosticks, which fore-run the mines of States, 
Princes, and private persons, are the charitable premonitions 
of good Angels, which more careless enquiries term but the 
effects of chance and nature. 

XXXII. Now, besides these particular and divided Spirits, 
there may be (for ought I know,) an universal and common 
Spirit to the whole World. It was the opinion of Plato, and 
it is yet of the Hermetical Philosophers. If there be a com- 
mon nature that unites and tyes the scattered and divided 
individuals into one species, why may there not be one that 
unites them all? However, I am sure there is a common 
Spirit that plays within us, yet makes no part of us; and 
that is, the Spirit of God, the fire and scintillation of that 
noble and mighty Essence, which is the life and radical heat 
of Spirits, and those essences that know not the vertue of 
the Sun; a fire quite contrary to the fire of Hell. This is 
that gentle heat that brooded on the waters, and in six days 
hatched the World; this is that irradiation that dispels the 
mists of Hell, the clouds of horrour, fear, sorrow, despair; 
and preserves the region of the mind in serenity. Whoso- 
ever feels not the warm gale and gentle ventilation of this 
Spirit, though I feel his pulse, I dare not say he lives: for 
truely, without this, to me there is no heat under the 

^"^ " Thereby is meant our good angel appointed us from our nativity." — T". B. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 297 

Tropick; nor any light, though I dwelt in the body of 
the Sun. 

As, when the labouring Sun hath wrought his track 

Up to the top of lofty Cancers back, 

The ycie Ocean cracks, the frozen pole 

Thaws with the heat of the Celestial coale; 

So, when Thy absent beams begin t' impart 

Again a Solstice on my frozen heart, ■ 

My winter's ov'r, my dropping spirits sing, 

And every part revives into a Spring. 

But if Thy quickning beams a while decline, 

And with their light bless not this Orb of mine, , 

A chilly frost surpriseth every member, 

And in the midst of June I feel December. 

O how this earthly temper doth debase 

The noble Soul, in this her humble place ; 

Whose wingy nature ever doth aspire 

To reach that place whence first it took its fire. 

These flames I feel, which in my heart do dwell, 

Are not Thy beams, but take their fire from Hell : 

O quench them all, and let Thy Light divine 

Be as the Sun to this poor Orb of mine ; 

And to Thy sacred Spirit convert those fires, 

Whose earthly fumes choak my devout aspires. 

XXXIII. Therefore for Spirits, I am so far from denying 
their existence, that I could easily believe, that not onely 
whole Countries, but particular persons, have their Tutelary 
and Guardian Angels. It is not a new opinion of the Church 
of Rome, but an old one of Pythagoras and Plato; there is 
no heresie in it; and if not manifestly defin'd in Scripture, 
yet is it an opinion of a good and wholesome use in the 
course and actions of a mans life, and would serve as an 
Hypothesis to salve many doubts, whereof common Philos- 
ophy affordeth no solution. Now, if you demand my opin- 
ion and Metaphysicks of their natures, I confess them very 
shallow; most of them in a negative way, like that of God; 
or in a comparative, between ourselves and fellow-creatures ; 
for there is in this Universe a Stair, or manifest Scale of 
creatures, rising not disorderly, or in confusion, but with a 
comely method and proportion. Between creatures of meer 
existence, and things of life, there is a large disproportion of 
nature ; between plants, and animals or creatures of sense, 
a wider difference; between them and Man, a far greater: 
and if the proportion hold one, between Man and Angels 



298 THOMAS BROWNE 

there should be yet a greater. We do not comprehend their 
natures, who retain the first definition of Porphyry, and dis- 
tinguish them from our selves by immortality ; for before his 
Fall, 'tis thought, Man also was Immortal ; yet must we needs 
affirm that he had a different essence from the Angels. Hav- 
ing therefore no certain knowledge of their Natures, 'tis no 
bad method of the Schools, whatsoever perfection we find 
obscurely in our selves, in a more compleat and absolute way 
to ascribe unto them. I believe they have an extemporary 
knowledge, and upon the first motion of their reason do what 
we cannot without study or deliberation ; that they know 
things by their forms, and define by specifical difference what 
we describe by accidents and properties ; and therefore prob- 
abilities to us may be demonstrations unto them: that they 
have knowledge not onely of the specifical, but numerical 
forms of individuals, and understand by what reserved dif- 
ference each single Hypostasis'^ (besides the relation to its 
species,) becomes its numerical self: that, as the Soul hath a 
power to move the body it informs, so there's a faculty to 
move any, though inform none : ours upon restraint of time, 
place, and distance; but that invisible hand that conveyed 
Habakkuk to the Lyons Den,*"* or Philip to Azotus,^" in- 
fringeth this rule, and hath a secret conveyance, wherewith 
mortality is not acquainted. If they have that intuitive knowl- 
edge, whereby as in reflexion they behold the thoughts of 
one another, I cannot peremptorily deny but they know a 
great part of ours. They that, to refute the Invocation of 
Saints, have denied that they have any knowledge of our 
affairs below, have proceeded too far, and must pardon my 
opinion, till I can thoroughly answer that piece of Scripture, 
At the conversion of a sinner the Angels in Heaven rejoyce. 
I cannot, with those in that great Father,'^ securely interpret 
the work of the first day. Fiat lux, [Let there be light] to the 
creation of Angels ; though I confess, there is not any crea- 
ture" that hath so neer a glympse of their nature as light in 
the Sun and Elements. We stile it a bare accident ; but, where 
it subsists alone, 'tis a spiritual Substance, and may be an 
Angel : in brief, conceive light invisible, and that is a Spirit. 

«8 Distinct substance. «» Bel and the Dragon, z^. '" Acts viii. 40. 
'"^The idea is found in both St. Chrysostom and St. Augustine, 
^a Created thing. 



RBLIGIO MEDICI 299 

XXXIV. These are certainly the Magisterial and master- 
pieces of the Creator, the Flower, or (as we may say,) the 
best part of nothing; actually existing, what we are but in 
hopes and probability. We are onely that amphibious piece 
between a corporal and spiritual Essence, that middle form 
that links those two together, and makes good the Method of 
God and Nature, that jumps not from extreams, but unites 
the incompatible distances by some middle and participating 
natures. That we are the breath and similitude of God, it 
is indisputable, and upon record of Holy Scripture; but to 
call ourselves a Microcosm, or little World, I thought it only 
a pleasant trope of Rhetorick, till my neer judgement and 
second thoughts told me there was a real truth therein. For 
first we are a rude mass, and in the rank of creatures which 
onely are, and have a dull kind of being, not yet priviledged 
with life, or preferred to sense or reason; next we live the 
life of Plants, the life of Animals, the Hfe of Men, and at 
last the life of Spirits, running on in one mysterious nature 
those five kinds of existences, which comprehend the crea- 
tures not onely of the World, but of the Universe. Thus is 
Man that great and true Amphihium, whose nature is dis- 
posed to live, not onely like other creatures in divers ele- 
ments, but in divided and distinguished worlds: for though 
there be but one to sense, there are two to reason, the one 
visible, the other invisible; whereof Moses seems to have 
left description, and of the other so obscurely, that some 
parts thereof are yet in controversie. And truely, for the 
first chapters of Genesis, I must confess a great deal of ob- 
scurity ; though Divines have to the power of humane reason 
endeavoured to make all go in a literal meaning, yet those 
allegorical interpretations are also probable, and perhaps the 
mystical method of Moses bred up in the Hieroglyphical 
Schools of the Egyptians. 

XXXV. Now for that immaterial world, methinks we need 
not wander so far as beyond the first moveable;'' for even 
in this material Fabrick the Spirits walk as freely exempt 
from the affection of time, place, and motion, as beyond the 
extreamest circumference. Do but extract from the corpu- 
lency of bodies, or resolve things beyond their first matter, 

"'^Primutn mobile, the tenth sphere of the old astronomy. 



300 THOMAS BROWNE 

and you discover the habitation of Angels, which if I call the 
ubiquitary and omnipresent Essence of God, I hope I shall 
not offend Divinity: for before the Creation of the World 
God was really all things. For the Angels He created no new 
World, or determinate mansion, and therefore they are 
everywhere where is His Essence, and do live at a distance 
even in Himself. That God made all things for Man, is in 
some sense true, yet not so far as to subordinate the Crea- 
tion of those purer Creatures unto ours, though as ministring 
Spirits they do, and are willing to fulfil the will of God in 
these lower and sublunary affairs of Man. God made all 
things for Himself, and it is impossible He should, make them 
for any other end than His own Glory; it is all He can re- 
ceive, and all that is without Himself. For, honour being 
an external adjunct, and in the honourer rather than in the 
person honoured, it was necessary to make a Creature, from 
whom He might receive this homage; and that is, in the 
other world. Angels, in this, Man; which when we neglect, 
we forget the very end of our Creation, and may justly 
provoke God, not onely to repent that He hath made the 
World, but that He hath sworn He would not destroy it. 
That there is but one World, is a conclusion of Faith: 
Aristotle with all his Philosophy hath not been able to prove 
it, and as weakly that the World was eternal. That dispute 
much troubled the Pen of the ancient Philosophers, but 
Moses decided that question, and all is salved with the new 
term of a Creation, that is, a production of something out of 
nothing. And what is that ? whatsoever is opposite to some- 
thing; or more exactly, that which is truely contrary unto 
God: for He onely is, all others have an existence with 
dependency, and are something but by a distinction. And 
herein is Divinity conformant unto Philosophy, and genera- 
tion not onely founded on contrarieties, but also creation; 
God, being all things, is contrary unto nothing, out of which 
were made all things, and so nothing became something, and 
Omneity informed Nullity into an Essence. 

XXXVI. The whole Creation is a- Mystery, and partic- 
ularly that of Man. At the blast of His mouth were the 
rest of the Creatures made, and at His bare word they 
started out of nothing: but in the frame of Man (as the 



RELIGIO MEDICI 301 

Text describes it,) He played the sensible operator, and 
seemed not so much to create, as make him. When He had 
separated the materials of other creatures, there consequently 
resulted a form and soul; but, having raised the walls of 
Man, He was driven to a second and harder creation of a 
substance like Himself, an incorruptible and immortal Soul. 
For these two affections'^* we have the Philosophy and opin- 
ion of the Heathens, the flat affirmative of Plato, and not a 
negative from Aristotle. There is another scruple cast in by 
Divinity concerning its production, much disputed in the 
Germane auditories, and with that indifferency and equality 
of arguments, as leave the controversie undetermined. I 
am not of Paracelsus mind, that boldly delivers a receipt to 
make a man without conjunction;^^ yet cannot but wonder at 
the multitude of heads that do deny traduction,'^ having no 
other argument to confirm their belief then that Rhetorical 
sentence and Antimetathesis~'^ of Augustine, Creando infun- 
ditur, infundendo creatur. [By creating it is poured in, by 
pouring in it is created.] Either opinion will consist well 
enough with Religion: yet I should rather incline to this, 
did not one objection haunt me, (not wrung from specula- 
tions and subtilties, but from common sense and observation ; 
not pickt from the leaves of any Author, but bred amongst 
the weeds and tares of mine own brain;) and this is a con- 
clusion froifn the equivocal and monstrous productions in the 
conjunction of Man with Beast: for if the Soul' of man be 
not transmitted and transfused in the seed of the Parents, 
why are not those productions meerly beasts, but have also 
an impression and tincture of reason in as high a measure 
as it can evidence it self in those improper Organs? Nor, 
truely, can I peremptorily deny that the Soul, in this her 
sublunary estate, is wholly and in all acceptions'^ inorgan- 
ical; but that for the performance of her ordinary actions 
there is required not onely a symmetry and proper disposi- 
tion of Organs, but a Crasis'^'^ and temper correspondent to 
its operations : yet is not this mass of flesh and visible struc- 
ture the instrument and proper corps of the Soul, but rather 

'* Qualities. '^^ Sexual intercourse. 

'^Derivation (of the soul from the parents). 

" The giving of two different meanings from two different arrangements 
of the same words. '^^ Acceptations. ™ Constitution. 



302 THOMAS BROWNE 

of Sense, and that the hand of Reason. In our study of 
Anatomy there is a mass of mysterious Philosophy, and such 
as reduced the very Heathens to Divinity: yet, amongst all 
those rare discoveries and curious pieces I find in the Fabrick 
of Man, I do not so much content my self, as in that I find 
not, there is no Organ or Instrument for the rational Soul; 
for in the brain, which we term the seat of Reason, there is 
not anything of moment more than I can discover in the 
crany^° of a beast : and this is a sensible and no inconsiderable 
argument of the inorganity of the Soul, at least in that sense 
we usually so receive it. Thus we are men, and we know not 
how : there is something in us that can be without us, and 
will be after us ; though it is strange that it hath no history 
what it was before us, nor cannot tell how it entred in us. 
XXXVII. Now, for these walls of flesh, wherein the Soul 
doth seem to be immured before the Resurrection, it is noth- 
ing but an elemental composition, and a Fabrick that must 
fall to ashes. All Uesh is grass, is not onely metaphorically, 
but litterally, true ; for all those creatures we behold are but 
the herbs of the field, digested into flesh in them, or more 
remotely carnified^ in our selves. Nay further, we are what 
we all abhor, Anthropophagi and Cannibals, devourers not 
onely of men, but of our selves ; and that not in an allegory, 
but a positive truth: for all this mass of flesh which we be- 
hold, came in at our mouths; this frame we look* upon, hath 
been upon our trenchers; in brief, we have devour'd our 
selves. I cannot believe the wisdom of Pythagoras did ever 
positively, and in a literal sense, affirm his Metempsychosis, 
or impossible transmigration of the Souls of men into beasts. 
Of all Metamorphoses or transmigrations, I believe only one, 
that is of Lots wife ; for that of Nebuchodonosor proceeded 
not so far : in all others I conceive there is no further verity 
than is contained in their implicite sense and morality. I 
believe that the whole frame of a beast doth perish, and is 
left in the same state after death as before it was materialled 
unto life : that the Souls of men know neither contrary nor 
corruption; that they subsist beyond the body, and outlive 
death by the priviledge of their proper natures, and without 
a Miracle ; that the Souls of the faithful, as they leave Earth, 

80 Skull. 81 Made flesh. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 303 

take possession of Heaven : that those apparitions and ghosts 
of departed persons are not the wandring souls of men, but 
the unquiet walks of Devils, prompting and suggesting us 
unto mischief, blood, and villany ; instilling and stealing into 
our hearts that the blessed Spirits are not at rest in their 
graves, but wander sollicitous of the affairs of the World. 
But that those phantasms appear often, and do frequent 
Coemeteries, Charnel-houses, and Churches, it is because 
those are the dormitories of the dead, where the Devil, like 
an insolent Champion, beholds with pride the spoils and 
Trophies of his Victory over Adam. 

XXXVIII. This is that dismal conquest we all deplore, 
that makes us so often cry, O Adam, quid fecisti? [O Adam, 
what hast thou done?] I thank God I have not those strait 
ligaments, or narrow obligations to the World, as to dote on 
life, or be convulst and tremble at the name of death. Not 
that I am insensible of the dread and horrour thereof; or 
by raking into the bowels of the deceased, continual sight of 
Anatomies, Skeletons, or Cadaverous reliques, like Vespil- 
loes,^^ or Grave-makers, I am become stupid, or have forgot 
the apprehension of Mortality; but that, marshalling all the 
horrours, and contemplating the extremities thereof, I find 
not any thing therein able to daunt the courage of a man, 
much less a well-resolved Christian; and therefore am not 
angry at the errour of our first Parents, or unwilling to bear 
a part of this common fate, and like the best of them to dye, 
that is, to cease to breathe, to take a farewel of the elements, 
to be a kind of nothing for a moment, to be within one in- 
stant of a Spirit. When I take a full view and circle of my 
self without this reasonable moderator, and equal piece of 
Justice, Death, I do conceive my self the miserablest person 
extant. Were there not another life that I hope for, all the 
vanities of this World should not intreat a moments breath 
from me ; could the Devil work my belief to imagine I could 
never dye, I would not outlive that very thought. I have so 
abject a conceit^^ of this common way of existence, this re- 
taining to the Sun and Elements, I cannot think this is to 
be a Man, or to live according to the dignity of humanity. 
In exspectation of a better, I can with patience embrace this 

82 Latin, corpse-bearers. ^ Idea. 



304 THOMAS BROWNE 

life, yet in my best meditations do often defie death; I honour 
any man that contemns it, nor can I highly love any that is 
afraid of it: this makes me naturally love a Souldier, and 
honour those tattered and contemptible Regiments that will 
die at the command of a Sergeant. For a Pagan there may 
be some motives to be in love with life ; but for a Christian 
to be amazed at death, I see not how he can escape this 
Dilemma, that he is too sensible of this life, or hopeless of 
the life to come. 

XXXIX. Some Divines count Adam thirty years old at 
his Creation, because they suppose him created in the per- 
fect age and stature of man. And surely we are all out of 
the computation of our age, and every man is some months 
elder than he bethinks him. ; for we live, move, have a being, 
and are subject to the actions of the elements, and the malice 
of diseases, in that other World, the truest Microcosm, the 
Womb of our Mother. For besides that general and common 
existence we are conceived to hold in our Chaos, and whilst , 
we sleep within the bosome of our causes, we enjoy a being 
and life in three distinct worlds, wherein we receive most 
manifest graduations. In that obscure World and Womb 
of our Mother, our time is short, computed by the Moon, 
yet longer then the days of many creatures that behold the 
Sun; our selves being not yet without life, sense, and rea- 
son; though for the manifestation of its actions, it awaits 
the opportunity of objects, and seems to live there but in its 
root and soul of vegetation. Entring afterwards upon the 
scene of the World, we arise up and become another crea- 
ture, performing the reasonable actions of man, and ob- 
scurely manifesting that part of Divinity in us; but not 
in complement^ and perfection, till we have once more cast 
our secondine,^ that is, this slough of flesh, and are deliv- 
ered into the last World, that is, that ineffable place of Paul, 
that proper ubi^'^ of Spirits. The smattering I have of the 
Philosophers Stone (which is something more than the per- 
fect exaltation of gold,) hath taught me a great deal of 
Divinity, and instructed my belief, how that immortal spirit 
and incorruptible substance of my Soul may lye obscure, 
and sleep a while within this house of flesh. Those strange 
8* Completeness. ^s After-birth. ^ Dwelling-place. 




i 






a 



RELIGIO MEDICI 305 

and mystical transmigrations that I have observed in Silk- 
worms, turned my Philosophy into Divinity. There is in 
these works of nature, which seem to puzzle reason, some- 
thing Divine, and hath more in it then the eye of a common 
spectator doth discover. 

XL. I am naturally bashful; nor hath conversation, age, 
or travel, been able to eff ront^^ or enharden me ; yet I have 
one part of modesty which I have seldom discovered 
in another, that is, (to speak truely,) I am not so 
much afraid of death, as ashamed thereof. 'Tis the very 
disgrace and ignominy of our natures, that in a moment 
can so disfigure us, that our nearest friends. Wife, and Chil- 
dren, stand afraid and start at us: the Birds and Beasts of 
the field, that before in a natural fear obeyed us, forgetting 
all allegiance, begin to prey upon us. This very conceit hath 
in a tempest disposed and left me willing to- be swallowed 
up in the abyss of waters, wherein I had perished unseen, 
unpityed, without wondering eyes, tears of pity, Lectures of 
mortality, and none had said. 

Quantum niutatus ab illo! 
[How changed from that man !J 

Not that I am ashamed of the Anatomy of my parts, or can 
accuse Nature for playing the bungler in any part of me, or 
my vitious life for contracting any shameful disease upon 
me, whereby I might not call my self as wholesome a morsel 
for the worms as any. 

XLI. Some, upon the courage of a fruitful issue, wherein, 
as in the truest Chronicle, they seem to outlive themselves, 
can with greater patience away with death. This conceit 
and counterfeit subsisting in our progenies seems to me a 
meer fallacy, unworthy the desires of a man that can but 
conceive a thought of the next World ; who, in a nobler am- 
bition, should desire to live in his substance in Heaven, 
rather than his name and shadow in the earth. And there- 
fore at my death I mean to take a total adieu of the World, 
not caring for a Monument, History or Epitaph, not so much 
as the bare memory of my name to be found any where but 

87 Embolden. 



306 THOMAS BROWNE 

in the universal Register of God. I am not yet so Cynical 
as to approve the Testament of Diogenes ;^^ nor do I alto- 
gether allow that Rodomontado^^ of Lucan, 

Ccelo tegitur, qui non habet urnam. 

He that unburied lies wants not his Herse, 
For unto him a Tomb's the Universe. 

but commend in my calmer judgement those ingenuous in- 
tentions that desire to sleep by the urns of their Fathers, 
and strive to go the neatest way unto corruption. I do not 
envy the temper of Crows and Daws/" nor the numerous and 
weary days of our Fathers before the Flood. If there be 
any truth in Astrology, I may outlive a Jubilee:®^ as yet I 
have not seen one revolution of Saturn,^^ nor hath my 
pulse beat thirty years; and yet, excepting one, have seen 
the Ashes and left under ground all the Kings of Europe ; 
have been contemporary to three Emperours, four Grand 
Signiours, and as many Popes.. Methinks I have outlived 
my self, and begin to be weary of the Sun; I have shaken 
hands with delight, in my warm blood and Canicular®^ days, I 
perceive I do anticipate the vices of age ; the World to me is 
but a dream or mock-show, and we all therein but Panta- 
lones and Anticks, to my severer contemplations. 

XLII. It is not, I confess, an unlawful Prayer to desire to 
surpass the days of our Saviour, or wish to outlive that age 
wherein He though fittest to dye; yet if (as Divinity af- 
firms,) there shall be no gray hairs in Heaven, but all shall 
rise in the perfect state of men, we do but outlive 
those perfections in this World, to be recalled unto them 
by a greater Miracle in the next, and run on here but 
to be retrograde hereafter. Were there any hopes to out- 
live vice, or a point to be super-annuated from sin, it were 
worthy our knees to implore the days of Methuselah. 
But age doth not rectify, but incur vate^* our natures, turn- 
ing bad dispositions into worser habits, and (like diseases,) 

88 " Who willed his friend not to bury him, but to hang him up with a 
staffe in his hand to fright away the crowes." — T. B. 

8» Boastful utterance. , r , ,-r 

^'^ These birds were supposed to live several times the length of human hie. 
SI Fifty years. "^ Thirty years. o* ^v/r i i j 

S3 Dog-days: here, figuratively, for young manhood. »* Make crooked. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 307 

brings on incurable vices; for every day as we grow weaker 
in age, we grow stronger in sin, and the number of our days 
doth but make our sins innumerable. The same vice com- 
mitted at sixteen, is not the same, though it agree in all 
other circumstances, at forty, but swells and doubles from 
the circumstance of our ages; wherein, besides the constant 
and inexcusable habit of transgressing, the maturity of our 
judgement cuts off pretence unto excuse or pardon. Every 
sin, the oftner it is committed, the more it acquireth in the 
quality of evil; as it succeeds in time, so it proceeds in de- 
grees of badness; for as they proceed they ever multiply, 
and, like figures in Arithmetick, the last stands for more than 
all that went before it. And though I think no man can live 
well once, but he that could live twice, yet for my own part 
I would not live over my hours past, or begin again the 
thread of my days : not upon Cicero's ground, because I have 
lived them well, but for fear I should live them worse. I find 
my growing Judgment daily instruct me how to be better, 
but my untamed affections and confirmed vitiosity makes me 
daily do worse. I find in my confirmed age the same sins I 
discovered in my youth; I committed many then, because I 
was a Child; and because I commit them still, I am yet an 
infant. Therefore I perceive a man may be twice a Child, 
before the days of dotage; and stand in need of ^sons 
Bath®^ before threescore. 

XLIII. And truly there goes a great deal of providence to 
produce a mans life unto threescore: there is more required 
than an able temper for those years ; though the radical hu- 
mour" contain in it sufficient oyl for seventy, yet I perceive 
in some it gives no light past thirty : men assign not all the 
causes of long life, that write whole Books thereof. They 
that found themselves on the radical balsome,^ or vital 
sulphur^ of the parts, determine not why Abel lived not so 
long as Adam. There is therefore a secret glome"^ or 
bottome^^ of our days : 'twas His wisdom to determine them, 
but His perpetual and waking providence that fulfils and 
accomplisheth them; wherein the spirits, ourselves, and all 

^5 For restoring youth. 

^^The moisture essential to vitality according to the old physiology. 

^ Supposed sources of longevity. ^s ggii (^f worsted). 



308 THOMAS BROWNE 

the creatures of God in a secret and disputed way do execute 
His will. Let them not therefore complain of immaturity 
that die about thirty; they fall but like the whole World, 
whose solid and well-composed substance must not expect 
the duration and period of its constitution: when aW things 
are completed in it, its age is accomplished ; and the last and 
general fever may as naturally destroy it before six thou- 
sand, as me before forty. There is therefore some other 
hand that twines the thread of life than that of Nature : we 
are not onely ignorant in Antipathies and occult qualities ; our 
ends are as obscure as our beginnings ; the line of our days 
is drawn by night, and the various effects therein by a pensil 
that is invisible; wherein though we confess our ignorance, 
I am sure we do not err if we say it is the hand of God. 

XLIV. I am much taken with two verses of Lucan, since 
I have been able not onely, as we do at School, to construe, 
but understand: 

Victurosque Dei celant, ut vivere durenty 
Felix esse mori.^^ 

We're all deluded, vainly searching ways 
To make us happy by the length of days; 
For cunningly to make 's protract this breath, 
The Gods conceal the happiness of Death. 

There be many excellent strains in that Poet, wherewith his 
Stoical Genius hath liberally supplied him; and truely there 
are singular pieces in the Philosophy of Zeno, and doctrine 
of the Stoicks, which I perceive, delivered in a Pulpit, pass 
for current Divinity: yet herein are they in extreams, that 
can allow a man to be his own Assassine, and so highly extol 
the end and suicide of Cato. This is indeed not to fear 
death, but yet to be afraid of life. It is a brave act of 
valour to contemn death ; but where life is more terrible than 
death, it is then the truest valour to dare to live. And herein 
Religion hath taught us a noble example; for all the valiant 
acts of Curtius, Scevola, or Codrus, do not parallel or match 
that one of Job ; and sure there is no torture to the rack of a 
disease, nor any Ponyards in death it self like those in the 
way or prologue to it. 

^ Lucan's " Pharsalia," iv. 519. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 309 

Emori nolo, sed me esse ??iortuum nihil curoJoo 
1 would not die, but care not to be dead. 

Were I of Csesar's Religion, I should be of his desires, and 
wish rather to go off at one blow, then to be sawed in pieces 
by the grating torture of a disease. Men that look no 
farther than their outsides, think health an appurtenance 
unto life, and quarrel with their constitutions for being sick ; 
but I, that have examined the parts of man, and know upon 
what tender filaments that Fabrick hangs, do wonder that 
we are not always so; and, considering the thousand doors 
that lead to death, do thank my God that we can die but 
once. 'Tis not onely the mischief of diseases, and the villany 
of poysons, that make an end of us; we vainly accuse the 
fury of Guns, and the new inventions of death; it is in the 
power of every hand to destroy us, and we are beholding 
unto every one we meet, he doth not kill us. There is there- 
fore but one comfort left, that, though it be in the power of 
the weakest arm to take away life, it is not in the strongest 
to deprive us of death : God would not exempt Himself from 
that, the misery of immortality in the flesh, He undertook 
not that was immortal. Certainly there is no happiness 
within this circle of flesh, nor is it in the Opticks of these 
eyes to behold felicity. The first day of our Jubilee is 
Death; the Devil hath therefore failed of his desires: we 
are happier with death than we should have been without 
it: there is no misery but in himself, where there is no end 
of misery; and so indeed, in his own sense, the Stoick^°^ is 
in the right. He forgets that he can dye who complains of 
misery; we a*re in the power of no calamity while death is 
in our own. 

XLV. Now, besides this Hteral and positive kind of death, 
there are others whereof Divines make mention, and those, 
I think, not meerly Metaphorical, as mortification, dying 
unto sin and the World. Therefore, I say, every man hath a 
double Horoscope, one of his humanity, his birth; another 
of his Christianity, his baptism ; and from this do I compute 
or calculate my Nativity, not reckoning those Horce com- 

^'^ Quoted by Cicero, " Tusc. Qusest." i. 8, from Epicharmus. 

"1 In holding that death is no evil. 

HCIII 20 



310 THOMAS BROWNE 

bustcs^^ and odd days, or esteeming my self any thing, before 
I was my Saviours, and inrolled in the Register of Christ. 
Whosoever enjoys not this Hfe, I count him but an appari- 
tion, though he wear about him the sensible affections^"^ of 
flesh. In these moral acceptions,^"* the way to be immortal 
is to dye daily: nor can I think I have the true Theory of 
death, when I contemplate a skull, or behold a Skeleton, 
with those vulgar imaginations it casts upon us; I have 
therefore enlarged that common Memento mori, [Remember 
you must die] into a more Christian memorandum. Memento 
quatuor Novissima, [Remember the four last things] those 
four inevitable points of us all. Death, Judgement, Heaven, 
and Hell. Neither did the contemplations of the Heathens 
rest in their graves, without a further thought of Rha- 
damanth,^"^ or some judicial proceeding after death, though 
in another way, and upon suggestion of their natural rea- 
sons. I cannot but marvail from what Sibyl or Oracle they 
stole the Prophesie of the Worlds destruction by fire, or 
whence Lucan learned to say. 

Communis mundo superest rogus, ossibus astra 
Mis turns. ^^ 

There yet remains to th' World one common Fire, 
Wherein our bones with stars shall make one Pyre. 

I believe the W^orld grows near its end, yet is neither old nor 
decayed, nor shall ever perish upon the ruines of its own 
Principles. As the work of Creation was above Nature, so 
is its adversary, annihilation; without which the World 
hath not its end, but its mutation. Now what force should 
be able to consume it thus far, without the breath of God, 
which is the truest consuming flame, my Philosophy cannot 
inform me. Some believe there went not a minute to the 
Worlds creation, nor shall there go to its destruction; those 
six days, so punctually described, make not to them one mo- 
ment, but rather seem to manifest the method and Idea of 
the great work of the intellect of God, than the manner 
how He proceeded in its operation. I cannot dream that 

102 Combust hours, " when the moon is in conjunction and obscured by 
the sun." ^^^ Qualities. ^o* Acceptations. ^^^ Judge in Hades. 

106 <« Pharsalia " vii. 814. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 311 

there should be at the last day any such Judicial proceed- 
ing, or calling to the Bar, as indeed the Scripture seems to 
imply, and the literal Commentators do conceive: for un- 
speakable mysteries in the Scriptures are often delivered in 
a vulgar and illustrative v^ay; and, being written unto man, 
are delivered, not as they truely are, but as they may be 
understood; wherein, notwithstanding, the different inter- 
pretations according to different capacities may stand firm 
with our devotion, nor be any way prejudicial to each 
single edification. 

XLVI. Now to determine the day and year of this in- 
evitable time, is not onely convincible^*" and statute-mad- 
ness,^*^ but also manifest impiety. How shall we interpret 
Elias six thousand years,^*® or imagine the secret communi- 
cated to a Rabbi, which God hath denyed unto His Angels ? 
It had been an excellent Quaere"" to have posed the Devil of 
Delphos,^ and must needs have forced him to some strange 
amphibology.^" It hath not onely mocked the predictions of 
sundry Astrologers in Ages past, but the prophesies of many 
melancholy heads in these present; who, neither under- 
standing reasonably things past or present, pretend a knowl- 
edge of things to come: heads ordained onely to manifest 
the incredible effects of melancholy, and to fulfil old proph- 
ecies rather than be the authors of new. In those days there 
shall come Wars and rumours of Wars, to me seems no 
prophecy, but a constant truth, in all times verified since it 
was pronounced. There shall be signs in the Moon and 
Stars; how comes He then like a Thief in the night, when 
He gives an item of His coming? That common sign 
drawn from the revelation of Antichrist, is as obscure as 
any: in our common compute He hath been come these 
many years: but for my own part, (to speak freely,) I am 
half of opinion that Antichrist is the Philosopher's stone in 
Divinity, for the discovery and invention whereof, though 
there be prescribed rules and probable inductions, yet hath 
hardly any man attained the perfect discovery thereof. That 
general opinion that the World grows near its end, hath 

lOT Capable of proof. los Madness defined by law. ^^ The time of 

the existence of the world, according to a tradition ascribed to the school of 
Elijah in the Talmud. ^^ Question. ^ The oracle of Apollo. 

^ Ambiguity. 



312 THOMAS BROWNE 

possessed all ages past as nearly as ours. I am afraid that 
the Souls that now depart, cannot escape that lingring ex- 
postulation of the Saints under the Altar, Quousque, 
DoMiNE? How long, O Lord? and groan in the expecta- 
tion of that great Jubilee. 

XLVli. This is the day that must make good that great 
attribute of God, His Justice; that must reconcile those un- 
answerable doubts that torment the wisest understandings; 
and reduce those seeming inequalities and respective distribu- 
tions in this world, to an equality and recompensive Justice 
in the next. This is that one day, that shall include and 
comprehend all that went before it ; wherein, as in the last 
scene, all the Actors must enter, to compleat and make up 
the Catastrophe of this great piece. This is the day whose 
memory hath onely power to make us honest in the dark, 
and to be vertuous without a witness. 

Ipsa sui prethim virtus sibij^ 

that Vertue is her own reward, is but a cold principle, and 
not able to maintain our variable resolutions in a constant 
and setled way of goodness. I have practised that honest 
artifice of Seneca, and in my retired and solitary imagina- 
tions, to detain me from the foulness of vice, have fancied 
to my self the presence of my dear and worthiest friends, 
before whom I should lose my head, rather than be vitious : 
yet herein I found that there was nought but moral honesty, 
and this was not to be vertuous for His sake Who must 
reward us at the last. I have tryed if I could reach that 
great resolution of his, to be honest without a thought of 
Heaven or Hell : and indeed I found, upon a natural inclina- 
tion and inbred loyalty unto virtue, that I could serve her 
without a livery ;^^* yet not in that resolved and venerable 
way, but that the frailty of my nature, upon an easie tempta- 
tion, might be induced to forget her. The life, therefore, 
and spirit of all our actions is the resurrection, and a stable 
apprehension that our ashes shall enjoy the fruit of our 
pious endeavours: without this, all Religion is a Fallacy, 
and those impieties of Lucian, Euripides, and Julian, are no 
^ Claudian, " De Mallii Theod. Consul." v. i. ^* Reward. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 313 

blasphemies, but subtle verities, and Atheists have been the 
onely Philosophers. 

XLVIII. How shall the dead arise, is no question of my 
Faith; to believe only possibilities, is not Faith, but meer 
Philosophy. Many things are true in Divinity, v^hich are 
neither inducible by reason, nor confirmable by sense; and 
many things in Philosophy confirmable by sense, yet not in- 
ducible by reason. Thus it is impossible by any solid or 
demonstrative reasons to perswade a man to believe the 
conversion"^ of the Needle to the North; though this be 
possible, and true, and easily credible, upon a single experi- 
ment unto the sense. I believe that our estranged and di- 
vided ashes shall unite again; that our separated dust, after 
so many Pilgrimages and transformations into the parts of 
Minerals, Plants, Animals, Elements, shall at the Voice of 
God return into their primitive shapes, and joyn again to 
make up their primary and predestinate forms. As at the 
Creation there was a separation of that confused mass into 
its species; so at the destruction thereof there shall be a 
separation into its distinct individuals. As at the Creation 
of the World, all the distinct species that we behold lay 
involved in one mass, till the fruitful Voice of God sepa- 
rated this united multitude into its several species ; so at the 
last day, when those corrupted reliques shall be scattered 
in the Wilderness of forms, and seem to have forgot their 
proper habits, God by a powerful Voice shall command them 
back into their proper shapes, and call them out by their 
single individuals. Then shall appear the fertility of Adam, 
and the magick of that sperm"" that hath dilated into so 
many millions. I have often beheld as a miracle, that arti- 
ficial resurrection and revivification"' of Mercury, how being 
mortified into a thousand shapes, it assumes again its own, 
and returns into its numerical"^ self. Let us speak naturally 
and like Philosophers, the forms of alterable bodies in these 
sensible corruptions perish not; nor, as we imagine, wholly 
quit their mansions, but retire and contract themselves into 
their secret and unaccessible parts, where they may best pro- 
tect themselves from the action of their Antagonist. A plant 

116 Turning. n^ Seed. i^' Restoration to its own form. 

us Individual. 



314 THOMAS BROWNE 

or vegetable consumed to ashes to a contemplative and 
school-Philosopher seems utterly destroyed, and the form to 
have taken his leave for ever; but to a sensible Artist the 
forms are not perished, but withdrawn into their incom- 
bustible part, where they lie secure from the action of that 
devouring element. This is made good by experience, which 
can from the Ashes of a Plant revive the plant, and from its 
cinders recall it into its stalk and leaves again. What the 
Art of man can do in these inferiour pieces, what blasphemy 
is it to affirm the finger of God cannot do in these more 
perfect and sensible structures ! This is that mystical Phi- 
losophy, from whence no true Scholar becomes an Atheist, 
but from the visible effects of nature grows up a real Divine, 
and beholds not in a dream, as Ezekiel, but in an ocular and 
visible object, the types of his resurrection. 

XLIX. Now, the necessary Mansions of our restored 
selves are those two contrary and incompatible places we call 
Heaven and Hell. To define them, or strictly to determine 
what and where these are, surpasseth my Divinity. That 
elegant"^ Apostle,^^" which seemed to have a glimpse of 
Heaven, hath left but a negative description thereof; which 
neither eye hath seen, nor ear hath heard, nor can enter into 
the heart of man: he was translated out of himself to behold 
it; but, being returned into himself, could not express it. St. 
John's description by Emerals, Chrysolites, and precious 
Stones, is too weak to express the material Heaven we be- 
hold. Briefly therefore, where the Soul hath the full mea- 
sure and complement of happiness; where the boundless 
appetite of that spirit remains compleatly satisfied, that it can 
neither desire addition nor alteration; that, I think, is truly 
Heaven: and this can onely be in the injoyment of that 
essence, whose infinite goodness is able to terminate the de- 
sires of it self, and the unsatiable wishes of ours: wherever 
God will thus manifest Himself, there is Heaven, though 
within the circle of this sensible world. Thus the Soul of 
man may be in Heaven any where, even within the limits 
of his own proper body; and when it ceaseth to live in the 
body, it may remain in its own soul, that is, its Creator: 
and thus we may say that St. Paul, whether in the body, or 

ii» Perhaps for eloquent. ^» St. Paul. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 315 

out of the body, was yet in Heaven. To place it in the 
Empyreal, or beyond the tenth sphear, is to forget the world's 
destruction ; for, when this sensible world shall be destroyed, 
all shall then be here as it is now there, an Empyreal Heaven, 
a quasi vacuity; when to ask where Heaven is, is to demand 
where the Presence of God is, or where we have the glory 
of that happy vision. Moses, that was "bred up in all the 
learning of the Egyptians, committed a gross absurdity in 
Philosophy, when with these eyes of flesh he desired to see 
God, and petitioned his Maker, that is. Truth it self, to a 
contradiction. Those that imagine Heaven and Hell neigh- 
bours, and conceive a vicinity between those two extreams, 
upon consequence of the Parable, where Dives discoursed 
with Lazarus in Abraham's bosome, do too grosly conceive 
of those glorified creatures, whose eyes shall easily out-see 
the Sun, and behold without a perspective^"^ the extreamest 
distances: for if there shall be in our glorified eyes, the 
faculty of sight and reception of objects, I could think the 
visible species there to be in as unlimitable a way as now 
the intellectual. I grant that two bodies placed beyond the 
tenth sphear, or in a vacuity, according to Aristotle's Phi- 
losophy, could not behold each other, because there wants a 
body or Medium to hand and transport the visible rays of 
the object unto the sense; but when there shall be a general 
defect of either Medium to convey, or light to prepare and 
dispose that Medium, and yet a perfect vision, we must sus- 
pend the rules of our Philosophy, and make all good by a 
more absolute piece of opticks. 

L. I cannot tell how to say that fire is the essence of Hell : 
I know not what to make of Purgatory, or conceive a flame 
that can either prey upon, or purifie the substance of a Soul. 
Those flames of Sulphur mention'd in the Scriptures, I take 
not to be understood of this present Hell, but of that to 
come, where fire shall make up the complement of our tor- 
tures, and have a body or subject wherein to manifest its 
tyranny. Some, who have had the honour to be textuary in 
Divinity, are of opinion it shall be the same specifical fire 
with ours. This is hard to conceive; yet can I make good 
how even that may prey upon our bodies, and yet not con- 

121 Telescope. 



316 THOMAS BROWNE 

sume us: for in this material World there are bodies that 
persist invincible in the powerfullest flames; and though by 
the action of fire they fall into ignition and liquation, yet 
will they never suffer a destruction. I would gladly know 
how Moses with an actual fire calcined or burnt the Golden 
Calf unto powder: for that mystical metal of Gold, whose 
solary^ and celestial nature I admire, exposed unto the 
violence of fire, grows onely hot, and liquifies, but con- 
sumeth not; so, when the consumable and volatile pieces of 
our bodies shall be refined into a more impregnable and 
fixed temper like Gold, though they suffer from the action 
of flames, they shall never perish, but lye immortal in the 
arms of fire. And surely, if this frame must suffer onely by 
the action of this element, there will many bodies escape; 
and not onely Heaven, but Earth will not be at an end, but 
rather a beginning. For at present it is not earth, but a 
composition of fire, water, earth, and air; but at that time, 
spoiled of these ingredients, it shall appear in a substance 
more like it self, its ashes. Philosophers that opinioned the 
worlds destruction by fire, did never dream of annihilation, 
which is beyond the power of sublunary causes ; for the 
last and proper action of that element is but vitrification, or 
a reduction of a body into glass; and therefore some of our 
Chymicks facetiously affirm, that at the last fire all shall be 
christallized and reverberated into glass, which is the ut- 
most action of that element. Nor need we fear this term, 
annihilation, or wonder that God will destroy the works of 
His Creation; for man subsisting, who is, and will then 
truely appear, a Microcosm, the world cannot be said to be 
destroyed. For the eyes of God^ and perhaps also of our 
glorified selves, shall as really behold and contemplate the 
World in its Epitome or contracted essence, as now it doth 
at large and in its dilated substance. In the seed of a Plant 
to the eyes of God, and to the understanding of man, there 
exists, though in an invisible way, the perfect leaves, flow- 
ers, and fruit thereof; for things that are in posse to the 
sense, are actually existent to the understanding. Thus God 
beholds all things. Who contemplates as fully His works in 
their Epitome, as in their full volume; and beheld as amply 

1^ Solar. Astrology associated gold with the sun. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 317 

the whole world in that Httle compendium of the sixth day, 
as in the scattered and dilated pieces of those five before. 

LI. Men commonly set forth the torments of Hell by fire, 
and the extremity of corporal afflictions, and describe Hell 
in the same method that Mahomet doth Heaven. This in- 
deed makes a noise, and drums in popular ears: but if this 
be the terrible piece thereof, it is not worthy to stand in 
diameter^ with Heaven, whose happiness consists in that 
part that is best able to comprehend it, that immortal es- 
sence, that translated divinity and colony of God, the Soul. 
Surely, though we place Hell under Earth, the Devil's walk 
.and purlue is about it: men speak too popularly who place 
it in those flaming mountains, which to grosser apprehensions 
represent Hell. The heart of man is the place the Devils 
dwell in : I feel sometimes a Hell within my self ; Lucifer 
keeps his Court in my breast, Legion is revived in me. There 
are as many Hells, as Anaxagoras conceited woi'lds.^ 
There was more than one Hell in Magdalene, when there 
were seven Devils, for every Devil is an Hell unto himself; 
he holds enough of torture in his own ubi, and needs not 
the misery of circumference to afflict him: and thus a dis- 
tracted Conscience here, is a shadow or introduction unto 
Hell hereafter. Who can but pity the merciful intention of 
those hands that do destroy themselves? the Devil, were it 
in his power, would do the like; which being impossible, his 
miseries are endless, and he suffers most in that attribute 
wherein he is impassible,^^ his immortality. 

LII. I thank God^ and with joy I mention it, I was never 
afraid of Hell, nor never grew pale at the description of that 
place. I have so fixed my contemplations on Heaven, that I 
have almost forgot the Idea of Hell, and am afraid rather to 
lose the Joys of the one, than endure the misery of the 
other: to be deprived of them is a perfect Hell, and needs, 
methinks, no addition to compleat our afflictions. That ter- 
rible term hath never detained me from sin, nor do I owe 
any good action to the name thereof. I fear God, yet am 
not afraid of Him : His Mercies make me ashamed of my 
sins, before His Judgements afraid thereof. These are the 

^3 In opposition to. ^^i j_ ^^ ^n infinite number. The doctrine belongs 

to Anaxarchus. ^^5 Exempt from decay. 



318 THOMAS BROWNE 

forced and secondary method of His wisdom, which He 
useth but as the last remedy, and upon provocation ; a course 
rather to deter the wicked, than incite the virtuous to His 
worship. I can hardly think there was ever any scared into 
Heaven ; they go the fairest way to Heaven that would serve 
God without a Hell; other Mercenaries, that crouch into 
Him in fear of Hell, though they term themselves the ser- 
vants, are indeed but the slaves, of the Almighty. 

LHI. And to be true, and speak my soul, when I survey 
the occurrences of my life, and call into account the Finger 
of God, I can perceive nothing but an abyss and mass of 
mercies, either in general to mankind, or in particular to my 
self. And (whether out of the prejudice of my affection, or 
an inverting and partial conceit of His mercies, I know not; 
but) those which others term crosses, afflictions, judgements, 
misfortunes, to me, who inquire farther into them then their 
visible effects, they both appear, and in event have ever 
proved, the secret and dissembled favours of His affection. 
It is a singular piece of Wisdom to apprehend truly, and 
without passion, the Works of God, and so well to distinguish 
His Justice from His Mercy, as not to miscall those noble 
Attributes : yet it is likewise an honest piece of Logick, so to 
dispute and argue the proceedings of God, as to distinguish 
even His judgments into mercies. For God is merciful unto 
all, because better to the worst than the best deserve ; and to 
say He punisheth none in this World, though it be a Para- 
dox, is no absurdity. To one that hath committed Murther, 
if the Judge should only ordain a Fine, it were a madness 
to call this a punishment, and to repine at the sentence, 
rather than admire the clemency of the Judge. Thus, our 
offences being mortal, and deserving not only Death, but 
Damnation, if the goodness of God be content to traverse and 
pass them over with a loss, misfortune, or disease, what 
frensie were it to term this a punishment, rather than an 
extremity of mercy, and to groan under the rod of His 
Judgements, rather than admire the Scepter of His Mercies ! 
Therefore to adore, honour, and admire Him, is a debt of 
gratitude due from the obligation of our nature, states, and 
conditions ; and with these thoughts^ He that knows them 
best, will not deny that I adore Him. That I obtain Heaven, 



RELIGIO MEDICI 319 

and the bliss thereof, is accidental, and not the intended 
work of my devotion; it being a felicity I can neither think 
to deserve, nor scarce in modesty to expect. For these two 
ends of us all, either as rewards or punishments, are merci- 
fully ordained and disproportionably disposed unto our ac- 
tions; the one being so far beyond our deserts, the other so 
infinitely below our demerits. 

LIV. There is no Salvation to those that believe not in 
Christ, that is, say some, since His Nativity, and, as Di- 
vinity affirmeth, before also; which makes me much appre- 
hend^ the ends of those honest Worthies and Philosophers 
which dyed before His Incarnation. It is hard to place those 
Souls in Hell, whose worthy lives do teach us Virtue on 
Earth; methinks, amongst those many subdivisions of Hell, 
there might have been one Limbo left for these. What a 
strange vision will it be to see their Poetical fictions con- 
verted into Verities, and their imagined and fancied Furies 
into real Devils ! How strange to them will sound the His- 
tory of Adam, when they shall suffer for him they never 
heard of! when they who derive their genealogy from the 
Gods, shall know they are the unhappy issue of sinful man ! 
It is an insolent part of reason, to controvert the Works of 
God, or question the Justice of His proceedings. Could 
Humility teach others, as it hath instructed me, to contem- 
plate the infinite and incomprehensible distance betwixt the 
Creator and the Creature; or did we seriously perpend that 
one simile of St. Paul, Shall the Vessel say to the Potter, 
" Why hast thou made me thus? " it would prevent these 
arrogant disputes of reason; nor would we argue the defini- 
tive sentence of God, either to Heaven or Hell. Men 
that live according to the right rule and law of reason, live 
but in their own kind, as beasts do in theirs; who justly obey 
the prescript of their natures, and therefore cannot reason- 
ably demand a reward of their actions, as onely obeying the 
natural dictates of their reason. It will, therefore, and must 
at last appear, that all salvation is through Christ; which 
verity, I fear, these great examples of virtue must confirm, 
and make it good how the perfectest actions of earth have 
no title or claim unto Heaven. 

^^ Contemplate with fear. 



320 THOMAS BROWNE 

LV. Nor truely do I think the lives of these, or of any 
other, were ever correspondent, or in all points conformable, 
unto their doctrines. It is evident that Aristotle transgressed 
the rule of his own Ethicks. The Stoicks that condemn pas- 
sion, and command a man to laugh in Phalaris^^ his Bull, 
could not endure without a groan a fit of the Stone or 
Colick. The Scepticks that affirmed they knew nothing, even 
in that opinion confute themselves, and thought they knew 
more than all the World beside. Diogenes I hold to be the 
most vain-glorious man of his time, and more ambitious in 
refusing all Honours, than Alexander in rejecting none. 
Vice and the Devil put a Fallacy upon our Reasons, and, pro- 
voking us too hastily to run from it, entangle and profound 
us deeper in it. The Duke of Venice, that weds himself unto 
the Sea by a Ring of Gold, I will not argue of prodigality, 
because it is a solemnity of good use and consequence in the 
State ; but the Philosopher that threw his money into the Sea 
to avoid Avarice, was a notorious prodigal. There is no 
road or ready way to virtue: it is not an easie point of art 
to disentangle our selves from this riddle, or web of Sin. To 
perfect virtue, as to Religion, there is required a Panoplia, or 
compleat armour; that, whilst we lye at close ward against 
one Vice, we lye not open to the venny^^ of another. And 
indeed wiser discretions that have the thred of reason to con- 
duct them, offend without pardon; whereas under-heads may 
stumble without dishonour. There go so many circumstances 
to piece up one good action, that it is a lesson to be good, 
and we are forced to be virtuous by the book. Again, the 
Practice of men holds not an equal pace, yea, and often runs 
counter to their Theory: we naturally know what is good, 
but naturally pursue what is evil: the Rhetorick wherewith 
I perswade another, cannot perswade my self. There is a 
depraved appetite in us, that will with patience hear the 
learned instructions of Reason, but yet perform no farther 
than agrees to its own irregular humour. In brief, we all 
are monsters, that is, a composition of Man and Beast, 
wherein we must endeavor to be as the Poets fancy that wise 
man Chiron,"® that is, to have the Region of Man above that 

12T A Sicilian tyrant of the 6th century b. c, who sacrificed human beings 
in a heated brazen bull. ^ Assault. "o xhe Centaur. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 321 

of Beast, and Sense to sit but at the feet of Reason. Lastly, 
I do desire with God that all, but yet affirm with men that 
few, shall know Salvation; that the bridge is narrow, the 
passage strait, unto life: yet those who do confine the Church 
of God, either to particular Nations, Churches, or Families, 
have made it far narrower than our Saviour ever meant it. 

LVI. The vulgarity of those judgements that wrap the 
Church of God in Strabo's cIoak,^^° and restrain it unto 
Europe, seem to me as bad Geographers as Alexander, who 
thought he had Conquer'd all the World, when he had not 
subdued the half of any part thereof. For we cannot deny 
.the Church of God both in Asia and Africa, if we do not 
forget the Peregrinations of the Apostles, the deaths of the 
Martyrs, the Sessions of many and (even in our reformed 
judgement) lawful Councils, held in those parts in the mi- 
nority and nonage of ours. Nor must a few differences, more 
remarkable in the eyes of man than perhaps in the judgement 
of God, excommunicate from Heaven one another; much less 
those Christians who are in a manner all Martyrs, maintaining 
their Faith in the noble way of persecution, and serving God 
in the Fire, whereas we honour him but in the Sunshine. 
'Tis true we all hold there is a number of Elect, and many 
to be saved; yet, take our Opinions together, and from the 
confusion thereof there will be no such thing as salvation, 
nor shall any one be saved. For first, the Church of Rome 
condemneth us, we likewise them; the Subreformists and 
Sectaries sentence the Doctrine of our Church as damnable; 
the Atomist,"^ or Familist,^^ reprobates all these; and all 
these, them again. Thus, whilst the Mercies of God do 
promise us Heaven, our conceits and opinions exclude us 
from that place. There must be, therefore, more than one 
St. Peter: particular Churches and Sects usurp the gates of 
Heaven, and turn the key against each other; and thus we 
go to Heaven against each others wills, conceits, and opin- 
ions, and, with as much uncharity as ignorance, do err, I 
fear, in points not only of our own, but one anothers 
salvation. 

LVII. I believe many are saved, who to man seem repro- 

130 Strabo compared the known world of his time to a cloak. 

131 Apparently a sect of Browne's time. 

133 One of the sect called " The Family of Love." 



322 THOMAS BROWNE 

bated; and many are reprobated, who, in the opinion and 
sentence of man, stand elected. There will appear at the Last 
day strange and unexpected examples both of His Justice 
and His Mercy ; and therefore to define either, is folly in 
man, and insolency even in the Devils. Those acute and 
subtil spirits, in all their sagacity, can hardly divine who shall 
be saved ; which if they could Prognostick, their labour were 
at an end, nor need they compass the earth seeking whom 
they may devour. Those who, upon a rigid application of 
the Law, sentence Solomon unto damnation, condemn not 
onely him, but themselves, and the whole World : for, by the 
Letter and written Word of God, we are without exception 
in the state of Death ; but there is a prerogative of God, and 
an arbitrary pleasure above the Letter of His own Law, by 
which alone we can pretend unto Salvation, and through 
which Solomon might be as easily saved as those who con- 
demn him. 

LVni. The number of those who pretend unto Salvation, 
and those infinite swarms who think to pass through the eye 
of this Needle, have much amazed me. That name and com- 
pellation of little Flock, doth not comfort, but deject, my 
Devotion ; especially when I reflect upon mine own unworthi- 
ness, wherein, according to my humble apprehensions, I am 
below them all. I believe there shall never be an Anarchy 
in Heaven ; but, as there are Hierarchies amongst the Angels, 
so shall there be degrees of priority amongst the Saints. 
Yet is it (I protest,) beyond my ambition to aspire unto the 
first ranks; my desires onely are (and I shall be happy 
therein,) to be but the last man, and bring up the Rere in 
Heaven. 

LIX. Again, I am confident and fully perswaded, yet dare 
not take my oath, of my Salvation. I am as it were sure, 
and do believe without all doubt, that there is such a City 
as Constantinople ; yet for me to take my Oath thereon were 
a kind of Perjury, because I hold no infallible warrant from 
my own sense to confirm me in the certainty thereof. And 
truly, though many pretend an absolute certainty of their 
Salvation, yet, when an humble Soul shall contemplate her 
own unworthiness, she shall meet with many doubts, and 
suddenly find how little we stand in need of the Precept of 



RELIGIO MEDICI 323 

St. Paul, Work out your salvation with fear and trembling. 
That which is the cause of my Election, I hold to be the 
cause of my Salvation, which was the mercy and beneplacit^^ 
of God, before I was, or the foundation of the World. Before 
Abraham was, I am, is the saying of Christ ; yet is it true in 
some sense, if I say it of my self; for I was not onely before 
my self, but Adam, that is, in the Idea of God, and the decree 
of that Synod held from all Eternity. And in this sense, I 
say, the World was before the Creation, and at an end be- 
fore it had a beginning; and thus was I dead before I was 
alive: though my grave be England, my dying place was 
Paradise : and Eve miscarried of me before she conceiv'd of 
Cain, 

LX. Insolent zeals,^^* that do decry good Works and rely 
onely upon Faith, take not away merit: for, depending upon 
the efficacy of their Faith, they enforce the condition of God, 
and in a more sophistical way do seem to challenge Heaven. 
It was decreed by God, that only those that lapt in the water 
like Dogs, should have the honour to destroy the Midianites ; 
yet could none of those justly challenge, or imagine he de- 
served, that honour thereupon. I do not deny but that true 
Faith, and such as God requires, is not onely a mark or 
token, but also a means, of our Salvation ; but where to find 
this, is as obscure to me as my last end. And if our Saviour 
could object unto His own Disciples and Favourites, a Faith, 
that, to the quantity of a grain of Mustard-seed, is able to 
remove Mountains; surely, that which we boast of, is not 
any thing, or at the most, but a remove from nothing. This 
is the Tenor of my belief; wherein though there be many 
things singular, and to the humour of my irregular self, yet, 
if they square not with maturer Judgements, I disclaim them, 
and do no further father them, than the learned and best 
judgements shall authorize them. 

i3«Good pleasure. ^^^ Zealots. 



RELIGIO MEDICI f 



THE SECOND PART 



NOW for that other Virtue of Charity, without which 
Faith is a meer notion, and of no existence, I have 
ever endeavoured to nourish the merciful disposition 
and humane incHnation I borrowed from my Parents, and 
regulate it to the written and prescribed Laws of Charity. 
And if I hold the true Anatomy of my self, I am delineated 
and naturally framed to such a piece of virtue; for I am of 
a constitution so general, that it consorts and sympathiseth 
with all things. I have no antipathy, or rather Idiosyn- 
crasie, in dyet, humour, air, any thing. I wonder not at the 
French for their dishes of Frogs, Snails and Toadstools, 
nor at the Jews for Locusts and Grasshoppers; but being 
amongst them, make them my common Viands, and I find 
they agree with my Stomach as well as theirs. I could di- 
gest a Salad gathered in a Church-yard, as well as in a 
Garden. I cannot start at the presence of a Serpent, 
Scorpion, Lizard, or Salamander: at the sight of a Toad or 
Viper, I find in me no desire to take up a stone to destroy 
them. I feel not in my self those common Antipathies that 
I can discover in others: those National repugnances do 
not touch me, nor do I behold with prejudice the French, 
Italian, Spaniard, or Dutch: but where I find their actions 
in balance with my Country-men's, I honour, love, and em- 
brace them in the same degree. I was born in the eighth 
Climate,^ but seem for to be framed and constellated unto all. 
I am no Plant that will not prosper out of a Garden. All 
places, all airs, make unto me one Countrey ; I am in England 
every where, and under any Meridian. I have been ship' 

^Region of the earth's surface, used like our degrees of latitude. 
324 



RELIGIO MEDICI 325 

wrackt, yet am not enemy with the Sea or Winds; I can 
study, play, or sleep in a Tempest. In brief, I am averse 
from nothing: my Conscience would give me the lye if I 
should say I absolutely detest or hate any essence but the 
Devil; or so at least abhor any thing, but that we might 
come to composition. If there be any among those common 
objects of hatred I do contemn and laugh at, it is that great 
enemy of Reason, Virtue and ReHgion, the Multitude: that 
numerous piece of monstrosity, which, taken asunder, seem 
men, and the reasonable creatures of God; but, confused 
together, make but one great beast, and a monstrosity more 
prodigious than Hydra. It is no breach of Charity to call 
these Fools; it is the style all holy Writers have afforded 
them, set down by Solomon in Canonical Scripture, and a 
point of our Faith to believe so. Neither in the name of 
Multitude do I onely include the base and minor sort of 
people; there is a rabble even amongst the Gentry, a sort of 
Plebeian heads, whose fancy moves with the same wheel as 
these ; men in the same Level with Mechanicks, though their 
fortunes do somewhat guild their infirmities, and their 
purses compound for their follies. But as, in casting ac- 
count, three or four men together come short in account of 
one man placed by himself below them; so neither are a 
troop of these ignorant Doradoe^ of that true esteem and 
value, as many a forlorn person, whose condition doth place 
him below their feet. Let us speak like Politicians:'' there 
is a Nobility without Heraldry, a natural dignity, whereby 
one man is ranked with another, another filed before him, 
according to the quality of his Desert, and preheminence of 
his good parts. Though the corruption of these times and 
the byas of present practice wheel another way, thus it was 
in the first and primitive Commonwealths, and is yet in the 
integrity and Cradle of well-order'd Polities, till corruption 
getteth ground; ruder desires labouring after that which 
wiser considerations contemn, every one having a liberty to 
amass and heap up riches, and they a licence or faculty to 
do or purchase any thing. 

II. This general and indifferent temper of mine doth more 
needy dispose me to this noble virtue. It is a happiness to 

'Spanish, the name of a fish: here=fooIs. ^ Statesmen. 
HCIII 21 



326 THOMAS BROWNE 

be born and framed unto virtue, and to grow up from the 
seeds of nature, rather than the inoculation and forced graffs 
of education: yet if we are directed only by our particular 
Natures, and regulate our inclinations by no higher rule 
than that of our reasons, we are but Moralists; Divinity 
will still call us Heathens. Therefore this great work of 
charity must have other motives, ends, and impulsions. I 
give no alms only to satisfie the hunger of my Brother, but 
to fulfil and accomplish the Will and Command of my God: 
I draw not my purse for his sake that demands it, but His 
That enjoyned it: I relieve no man upon the Rhetorick of his 
miseries, nor to content mine own commiserating disposi- 
tion ; for this is still but moral charity, and an act that oweth 
more to passion than reason. He that relieves another upon 
the bare suggestion and bowels of pity, doth not this, so 
much for his sake as for his own; for by compassion we 
make others misery our own, and so, by relieving them, we 
relieve our selves also. It is as erroneous a conceit to 
redress other Mens misfortunes upon the common considera- 
tions of merciful natures, that it may be one day our own 
case; for this is a sinister and politick kind of charity, 
whereby we seem to bespeak the pities of men in the like 
occasions. And truly I have observed that those professed 
Eleemosynaries, though in a croud or multitude, do yet di- 
rect and place their petitions on a few and selected persons: 
there is surely a Physiognomy, which those experienced and 
Master Mendicants observe, whereby they instantly discover 
a merciful aspect, and will single out a face wherein they 
spy the signatures and marks of Mercy. For there are 
mystically in our faces certain Characters which carry in 
them the motto of our Souls, wherein he that cannot read 
A. B. C. may read our natures. I hold moreover that there 
is a Phytognomy, or Physiognomy, not only of Men, but of 
Plants and Vegetables; and in every one of them some out- 
ward figures which hang as signs or bushes* of their inward 
forms. The Finger of God hath left an Inscription upon all 
His works, not graphical or composed of Letters, but of their 
several forms, constitutions, parts, and operations, which, 
aptly joyned together, do make one word that doth express 
* Bushes were hung out as signs before tavern doors. 



RELIGIO MEDICI • 327 

their natures. By these Letters God calls the Stars by their 
names; and by this Alphabet Adam assigned to every crea- 
ture a name peculiar to its Nature. Now there are, besides 
these Characters in our Faces, certain mystical figures in 
our Hands, which I dare not call meer dashes, strokes a la 
volee, or at random, because delineated by a Pencil that 
never works in vain; and hereof I take more particular no- 
tice, because I carry that in mine own hand which I could 
never read of nor discover in another. Aristotle, I confess, 
in his acute and singular Book of Physiognomy, hath made 
no mention of Chiromancy; yet I believe the Egyptians, who 
were neerer addicted to those abstruse and mystical sciences, 
had a knowledge therein, to which those vagabond and coun- 
terfeit Egyptians^ did after pretend, and perhaps retained a 
few corrupted principles, which sometimes might verifie their 
prognosticks. 

It is the common wonder of all men, how among so many 
millions of faces, there should be none alike: now contrary, 
I wonder as much how there should be any. He that shall 
consider how many thousand several words have been care- 
lessly and without study composed out of twenty-four Letters ; 
withal, how many hundred lines there are to be drawn in the 
Fabrick of one Man, shall easily find that this variety is 
necessary ; and it will be very hard that they shall so concur 
as to make one portract like another. Let a Painter care- 
lesly limb out a million of Faces, and you shall find them 
all different; yea, let him have his Copy before him, yet after 
all his art there will remain a sensible distinction; for the 
pattern or example of every thing is the perfectest in that 
kind, whereof we still come short, though we transcend or go 
beyond it, because herein it is wide, and agrees not in all 
points unto the copy. Nor doth the similitude of Creatures 
disparage the variety of Nature, nor any way confound the 
Works of God. For even in things alike there is diversity; 
and those that do seem to accord do manifestly disagree. 
And thus is man like God; for in the same things that we 
resemble Him, we are utterly different from Him. There 
was never anything so like another as in all points to concur : 
there will ever some reserved difference slip in, to prevent 

^ Gipsies. 



328 THOMAS BROWNE 

the identity; without which, two several things would not 
be alike, but the same, which is impossible. 

III. But to return from Philosophy to Charity : I hold not 
so narrow a conceit of this virtue, as to conceive that to 
give Alms is onely to be Charitable, or think a piece of 
Liberality can comprehend the Total of Charity. Divinity 
hath wisely divided the act thereof into many branches, and 
hath taught us in this narrow way many paths unto good- 
ness; as many ways as we may do good, so many ways we 
may be charitable. There are infirmities not onely of Body, 
but of Soul, and Fortunes, which do require the merciful 
hand of our abilities. I cannot contemn a man for igno- 
rance, but behold him with as much pity as I do Lazarus. It 
is no greater Charity to cloath his body, than apparel the 
nakedness of his Soul. It is an honourable object to see the 
reasons of other men wear our Liveries, and their borrowed 
understandings do homage to the bounty of ours: it is the 
cheapest way of beneficence, and, like the natural charity 
of the Sun, illuminates another without obscuring itself. To 
be reserved and caitiff in this part of goodness, is the 
sordidest piece of covetousness, and more contemptible than 
pecuniary Avarice. To this (as calling my self a Scholar,) 
I am obliged by the duty of my condition : I make not there- 
fore my head a grave, but a treasure, of knowledge ; I intend 
no Monopoly, but a community, in learning; I study not for 
my own sake only, but for theirs that study not for them- 
selves. I envy no man that knows more than my self, but 
pity them that know less. I instruct no man as an exercise 
of my knowledge, or with intent rather to nourish and keep 
it alive in mine own head then beget and propagate it in his : 
and in the midst of all my endeavours there is but one thought 
that dejects me, that my acquired parts must perish with 
my self, nor can be Legacied among my honoured Friends. 
I cannot fall out or contemn a man for an errour, or con- 
ceive why a difference in Opinion should divide an affec- 
tion; for Controversies, Disputes, and Argumentations, both 
in Philosophy and in Divinity, if they meet with discreet 
and peaceable natures, do not infringe the Laws of Charity. 
In all disputes, so much as there is of passion, so much there 
is of nothing to the purpose; for then Reason, like a bad 



RELIGIO MEDICI 329 

Hound, spends upon a false Scent, and forsakes the question 
first started. And this is one reason why Controversies are 
never determined; for, though they be amply proposed, they 
are scarce at all handled, they do so swell with unnecessary 
Digressions; and the Parenthesis on the party is often as 
large as the main discourse upon the subject. The Founda- 
tions of Religion are already established, and the Principles 
of Salvation subscribed unto by all: there remains not many 
controversies worth a Passion; and yet never any disputed 
without, not only in Divinity, but inferiour Arts. What a 
^arpa-/o[j.oo[xaxia^ and hot skirmish is betwixt S. and T. in 
Lucian !^ How do Grammarians hack and slash for the 
Genitive case in Jupiter!^ How do they break their own 
pates to salve that of Priscian ! 

Si foret in terris, rideret Democritus. 
[If he were on earth, Democritus would laugh.] 

Yea, even amongst wiser militants, how many wounds have 
been given, and credits slain, for the poor victory of an 
opinion or beggerly conquest of a distinction! Scholars are 
men of Peace, they bear no Arms, but their tongues are 
sharper than Actius his razor;® their Pens carry farther, and 
give a louder report than Thunder: I had rather stand the 
shock of a Basilisco,^" than the fury of a merciless Pen. It 
is not meer Zeal to Learning, or Devotion to the Muses, that 
wiser Princes Patron the Arts, and carry an indulgent aspect 
unto Scholars ; but a desire to have their names eternized by 
the memory of their writings, and a fear of the revengeful 
Pen of succeeding ages; for these are the men, that, when 
they have played their parts, and had their exits, must step 
out and give the moral of their Scenes, and deliver unto 
Posterity an Inventory of their Virtues and Vices. And 
surely there goes a great deal of Conscience to the com.- 
piling of an History: there is no reproach" to the scandal 
of a Story; it is such an authentick kind of falshood that 

• Battle of the Frogs and Mice. 

' In Lucian's " Judicium Vocalium," where the letter S accuses T of 
interference with the other consonants. 

8 Whether Jupiteris or Jovis. » Which cut through a whetstone. 

^0 A kind of cannon. " Because it is believed. 



330 THOMAS BROWNE 

with authority beHes our good names to all Nations and 
Posterity. 

IV. There is another offence unto Charity, which no 
Author hath ever written of, and few take notice of; and 
that's the reproach, not of whole professions, mysteries, and 
conditions, but of whole Nations, wherein by opprobrious 
Epithets we miscall each other, and by an uncharitable 
Logick, from a disposition in a few, conclude a habit in all. 

Le mutin Anglois, et le hravache Escossois, 

Et le fol Frangois, 
Le ponltron Romain, l^ larron de Gascongne, 
L'Espagnol superbe, et I'Aleman yvrongne, 

[The stubborn Englishman, the swaggering Scot, the foolish 
Frenchman, the coward Roman, the Gascon thief, the proud 
Spaniard, and the drunken German.] 

St. Paul, that calls the Cretians lyars^ doth it but indirectly, 
and upon quotation of their own Poet." It is as bloody a 
thought in one way, as Nero's^* was in another; for by a 
word we wound a thousand, and at one blow assassine the 
honour of a Nation. It is as compleat a piece of madness to 
miscal and rave against the times, or think to recal men 
to reason by a fit of passion. Democritus, that thought to 
laugh the times into goodness, seems to me as deeply 
Hypochondriack as Heraclitus, that bewailed them. It moves 
not my spleen to behold the multitude in their proper hu- 
mours, that is, in their fits of folly and madness; as well 
understanding that wisdom is not prophan'd unto the World, 
and 'tis the priviledge of a few to be Vertuous. They that 
endeavour to abolish Vice, destroy also Virtue; for con- 
traries, though they destroy one another, are yet the life 
of one another. Thus Virtue (abolish vice,) is an Idea. 
Again, the community^'' of sin doth not disparage goodness; 
for when Vice gains upon the major part, Virtue, in whom 
it remains, becomes more excellent ; and being lost in some, 
multipHes its goodness in others which remain untouched and 
persist intire in the general inundation. I can therefore be- 
hold Vice without a Satyr, content only with an admonition, 

^ " Titus " i. 12. 18 Epimenides. 

1* Perhaps a confusion with Caligula, who wished that the whole Roman 
people had one neck. ^^ Prevalence. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 331 

or instructive reprehension; for Noble Natures, and such 
as are capable of goodness, are railed into vice, that might 
as easily be admonished into virtue; and v^e should be all so 
far the Orators of goodness, as to protect her from the 
power of Vice, and maintain the cause of injured truth. No 
man can justly censure or condemn another, because indeed 
no man truly knows another. This I perceive in my self; 
for I am in the dark to all the world, and my nearest friends 
beheld me but in a cloud. Those that know me but super- 
ficially, think less of me than I do of my self; those of my 
neer acquaintance think more; God, Who truly knows me, 
knows that I am nothing ; for He only beholds me and all the 
world, Who looks not on us through a derived ray, or a 
trajection^^ of a sensible species, but beholds the substance 
without the helps of accidents, and the forms of things as 
we their operations. Further, no man can judge another, 
because no man knows himself: for we censure others but 
as they disagree from that humour which we fancy laudable 
in our selves, and commend others but for that wherein 
they seem to quadrate" and consent with us. So that, in 
conclusion, all is but that w^e all condemn, Self-love. 'Tis 
the general complaint of these times, and perhaps of those 
past, that charity grows cold ; which I perceive most verified 
in those which most do manifest the fires and flames of zeal ; 
for it is a virtue that best agrees with coldest natures, and 
such as are complexioned for humility. But how shall we 
expect Charity tow^ards others, when we are uncharitable to 
our selves? Charity begins at home, is the voice of the 
World ; yet is every man his greatest enemy, and, as it were, 
his own Executioner. Non occides, [Thou shalt not kill] is 
the Commandment of God, yet scarce observed by any man; 
for I perceive every man is his own Atropos^^ and lends a 
hand to cut the thred of his own days. Cain was not there- 
fore the first Murtherer, but Adam, who brought in death; 
whereof he beheld the practice and example in his own son 
Abel, and saw that verified in the experience of another, 
which faith could not perswade him in the Theory of 
himself. 

V. There is, I think, no man that apprehends his own 

" Emission. " Square. ^^ xhe Fate who cuts the thread of life. 



332 THOMAS BROWNE 

miseries less than my self, and no man that so needy ap- 
prehends anothers. I could lose an arm without a tear, and 
with few groans, methinks ; be quartered into pieces ; yet can 
I weep most seriously at a Play, and receive with true pas- 
sion the counterfeit grief of those known and professed Im- 
postures. It is a barbarous part of inhumanity to add unto 
any afflicted parties misery, or indeavour to multiply in any 
man a passion whose single nature is already above his 
patience. This was the greatest affliction of Job, and those 
oblique expostulations of his Friends a deeper injury than 
the down-right blows of the Devil. It is not the tears of our 
own eyes only, but of our friends also, that do exhaust the 
current of our sorrows; which, falling into many streams, 
runs more peaceably, and is contented v/ith a narrower chan- 
nel. It is an act within the power of charity, to translate a 
passion out of one breast into another, and to divide a sorrow 
almost out of it self; for an affliction, like a dimension, may 
be so divided, as, if not indivisible, at least to become in- 
sensible. Now with my friend I desire not to share or par- 
ticipate, but to engross, his sorrows; that, by making them 
mine own, I may more easily discuss them ; for in mine own 
reason, and within my self, I can command that which I can- 
not intreat without my self, and within the circle of another. 
I have often thought those noble pairs and examples of 
friendship not so truly Histories of what had been, as fictions 
of what should be; but I now perceive nothing in them but 
possibilities, nor anything in the Heroick examples of Damon 
and Pythias, Achilles and Patroclus, which methinks upon 
some grounds I could not perform within the narrow com- 
pass of my self. That a man should lay down his life for 
his Friend, seems strange to vulgar affections, and such as 
confine themselves within that Worldly principle, Charity 
begins at home. For mine own part I could never remember 
the relations that I held unto my self, nor the respect that I 
owe unto my own nature, in the cause of God, my Country, 
and my Friends. Next to these three, I do embrace my 
self. I confess I do not observe that order that the Schools 
ordain our affections, to love our Parents, Wives, 'Children, 
and then our Friends ; for, excepting the injunctions of Relig- 
ion, I do not find in my self such a necessary and indis- 



I 



RELIGIO MEDICI 333 

soluble Sympathy to all those of my blood. I hope I do not 
break the fifth Commandment, if I conceive I may love my 
friend before the nearest of my blood, even those to whom I 
owe the principles of life. I never yet cast a true affection 
on a woman; but I have loved my friend as I do virtue, my 
soul, my God. From hence me thinks I do conceive how 
God loves man, what happiness there is in the love of God. 
Omitting all other, there are three most mystical unions : 
I. two natures in one person; 2. three persons in one nature; 
3. one soul in two bodies; for though indeed they be really 
divided, yet are they so united, as they seem but one, and 
make rather a duality than two distinct souls. 

VI. There are wonders in true affection: it is a body of 
Enigma's, mysteries, and riddles; wherein two so become 
one, as they both become two. I love my friend before my 
self, and yet methinks I do not love him enough : some few 
months hence my multiplied affection will make me believe 
I have not loved him at all. When I am from him, I am 
dead till I be with him; when I am with him, I am not 
satisfied, but would still be nearer him. United souls are not 
satisfied with imbraces, but desire to be truly each other; 
which being impossible, their desires are infinite, and must 
proceed without a possibility of satisfaction. Another 
misery there is in affection, that whom we truly love like 
our own selves, we forget their looks, nor can our memory 
retain the Idea of their faces ; and it is no wonder, for they 
are our selves, and our affection makes their looks our own. 
This noble affection falls not on vulgar and common consti- 
tutions, but on such as are mark'd for virtue: he that can 
love his friend with this noble ardour, will in a competent 
degree affect all. Now, if we can bring our affections to look 
beyond the body, and cast an eye upon the soul, we have 
found out the true object, not only of friendship, but Charity; 
and the greatest happiness that we can bequeath the soul, is 
that wherein we all do place our last felicity. Salvation ; which 
though it be not in our power to bestow, it is in our charity 
and pious invocations to desire, if not procure and further. 
I cannot contentedly frame a prayer for my self in particular, 
without a catalogue for my friends ; nor request a happiness, 
wherein my sociable disposition doth not desire the fellow- 



334 THOMAS BROWNE 

ship of my neighbour. I never hear the Toll of a passing 
Bell, though in my mirth, with out my prayers and best 
wishes for the departing spirit; I cannot go to cure the body 
of my patient, but I forget my profession, and call unto God 
for his soul; I cannot see one say his prayers, but, in stead 
of imitating him, I fall into a supplication for him, who per- 
haps is no more to me than a common nature: and if God 
hath vouchsafed an ear to my supplications, there are surely 
many happy that never saw me, and enjoy the blessing of 
mine unknown devotions. To pray for Enemies, that is, for 
their salvation, is no harsh precept, but the practice of our 
daily and ordinary devotions. I cannot believe the story of 
the Italian :^^ our bad wishes and uncharitable desires pro- 
ceed no further than this life; it is the Devil, and the un- 
charitable votes of Hell, that desire our misery in the world 
to come. 

VII. To do no injury, nor take none, was a principle, 
which to my former years and impatient affections seemed 
to contain enough of Morality; but my more setled years 
and Christian constitution have fallen upon severer resolu- 
tions. I can hold there is no such thing as injury; that, if 
there be, there is no such injury as revenge, and no such 
revenge as the contempt of an injury; that to hate another, 
is to malign himself; that the truest way to love another, is 
to despise our selves. I were unjust unto mine own Con- 
science, if I should say I am at variance with any thing like 
my self. I find there are many pieces in this one fabrick of 
man ; this frame is raised upon a mass of Antipathies. I am 
one methinks, but as the World; wherein notwithstanding 
there are a swarm of distinct essences, and in them another 
World of contrarieties; we carry private and domestic ene- 
mies within, publick and more hostile adversaries with- 
out. The Devil, that did but buffet St. Paul, plays methinks 
at sharps" with me. Let me be nothing, if within the com- 
pass of my self I do not find the battail of Lepanto,^ Passion 
against Reason, Reason against Faith, Faith against the 
Devil, and my Conscience against all. There is another man 
within me, that's angry with me, rebukes, commands, and 

^* Who killed his enemy after inducing him to blaspheme, that he might 
go to hell. 20 Fights in earnest. ^^ '' Used for a deadly contest." 



RELIGIO MEDICI 335 

dastards me. I have no Conscience of Marble to resist the 
hammer of more heavy offences ; nor yet so soft and waxen, 
as to take the impression of each single peccadillo or scape 
of infirmity. I am of a strange belief, that it is as easie to be 
forgiven some sins, as to commit some others. For my 
Original sin, I hold it to be v^ashed away in my Baptism : for 
my actual transgressions, I compute and reckon with God 
but from my last repentance. Sacrament, or general absolu- 
tion ; and therefore am not terrified with the sins or madness 
of my youth. I thank the goodness of God, I have no sins 
that want a name; I am not singular in offences; my trans- 
gressions are Epidemical, and from the common breath of 
our corruption. For there are certain tempers of body, 
which, matcht with an humorous depravity of mind, do hatch 
and produce vitiosities, whose newness and monstrosity of 
nature admits no name: this was tfee temper of that Lecher 
that fell in love with a Statua, and the constitution of Nero 
in his Spintrian"^ recreations. For the Heavens are not only 
fruitful in new and unheard-of stars, the Earth in plants 
and animals, but mens minds also in villany and vices. Now 
the dulness of my reason, and the vulgarity^ of my disposi- 
tion, never prompted my invention, nor solicited my affection 
unto any of these; yet even those common and quotidian 
infirmities that so necessarily attend me, and do seem to be 
my very nature, have so dejected me, so broken the estima- 
tion that I should have otherwise of my self, that I repute 
my self the most abjectest piece of mortality. Divines pre- 
scribe a fit of sorrow to repentance: there goes indignation, 
anger, sorrow, hatred, into mine; passions of a contrary 
nature, which neither seem to sute with this action, nor my 
proper constitution. It is no breach of charity to our selves, 
to be at variance with our Vices, nor to abhor that part of 
us which is an enemy to the ground of charity, our God; 
wherein we do but imitate our great selves, the world, whose 
divided Antipathies and contrary faces do yet carry a chari- 
table regard unto the whole, by their particular discords 
preserving the common harmony, and keeping in fetters 
those powers, whose rebellions, once Masters, might be the 
ruine of all. 

23 Obscene. ^s Commonplaceness, 



336 THOMAS BROWNE 

VIII. I thank God, amongst those millions of Vices I do 
inherit and hold from Adam, I have escaped one, and that 
a mortal enemy to Charity, the first and father-sin, not onely 
of man, but of the devil. Pride: a vice whose name is com- 
prehended in a Monosyllable, but in its nature not circum- 
scribed with a World. I have escaped it in a condition that 
can hardly avoid it. Those petty acquisitions and reputed 
perfections that advance and elevate the conceits of other 
men, add no feathers unto mine. I have seen a Grammarian 
towr and plume himself over a single line in Horace, and 
shew more pride in the construction of one Ode, than the 
Author in the composure of the whole book. For my own part, 
besides the Jargon and Patois of several Provinces, I under- 
stand no less than six Languages; yet I protest I have no 
higher conceit of my self, than had our Fathers before the 
confusion of Babel, when^there was but one Language in the 
World, and none to boast himself either Linguist or Critick. 
I have not onely seen several Countries, beheld the nature 
of their Climes, the Chorography^ of their Provinces, Topog- 
raphy of their Cities, but understood their several Laws, 
Customs, and Policies ; yet cannot all this perswade the dul- 
ness of my spirit unto such an opinion of m.y self, as I 
behold in nimbler and conceited heads, that never looked a 
degree beyond their Nests. I know the names, and somewhat 
more, of all the constellations in my Horizon; yet I have 
seen a prating Mariner, that could onely name the pointers 
and the North Star, out-talk me, and conceit himself a whole 
Sphere above me. I know most of the Plants of my Coun- 
trey, and of those about me; yet methinks I do not know so 
many as when I did but know a hundred, and had scarcely 
ever Simpled^ further than Cheap-side !^'^ For, indeed, heads 
of capacity, and such as are not full with a handful or easie 
measure of knowledge, think they know nothing till they 
know all; which being impossible, they fall upon the opinion 
of Socrates, and only know they know not anything. I can- 
not think that Homer pin'd away upon the riddle of the 
fishermen ; or that Aristotle, who understood the uncertainty 
of knowledge, and confessed so often the reason of man 
too weak for the works of nature, did ever drown himself 

2* Description. 25 Botanized, ^e a great herb market in the 17th century. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 337 

upon the flux and reflux of Euripus. We do but learn to-day 
what our better advanced judgements will unteach to mor- 
row; and Aristotle doth but instruct us, as Plato did him; 
that is, to confute himself. I have run through all sorts, yet 
find no rest in any: though our first studies and junior en- 
deavours may style us Peripateticks, Stpicks, or Academicks ; 
yet I perceive the wisest heads prove, at last, almost all 
Scepticks, and stand like Janus" in the field of knowledge. I 
have therefore one common and authentick Philosophy I 
learned in the Schools, whereby I discourse and satisfy the 
reason of other men ; another more reserved, and drawn from 
experience, whereby I content mine own. Solomon, that 
complained of ignorance in the height of knowledge, hath 
not only humbled my conceits, but discouraged my endeav- 
ours. There is yet another conceit^ that hath sometimes 
made me shut my books, which tells me it is a vanity to waste 
our days in the bHnd pursuit of knowledge; it is but attend- 
ing a little longer, and we shall enjoy that by instinct and 
infusion, which we endeavour at here by labour and inquisi- 
tion. It is better to sit down in a modest ignorance, and rest 
contented with the natural blessing of our own reasons, than 
buy the uncertain knowledge of this life with sweat and 
vexation, which Death gives every fool gratis, and is an 
accessary of our glorification. 

IX. I was never yet once, and commend their resolutions 
who never marry twice: not that I disallow of second mar- 
riage; as neither, in all cases, of Polygamy, which, consid- 
ering some times, and the unequal number of both sexes, may 
be also necessary. The whole World was made for man, but 
the twelfth part of man for woman : Man is the whole World, 
and the Breath of God; Woman the Rib and crooked piece of 
man. I could be content that we might procreate like trees, 
without conjunction, or that there were any way to per- 
petuate the World without this trivial and vulgar way of 
union : it is the foolishest act a wise man commits in all his 
Hfe; nor is there any thing that will more deject his cool'd 
imagination, when he shall consider what an odd and un- 
worthy piece of folly he hath committed. I speak not in 

^ A Roman deity whose statues had two faces looking in opposite 
directions. ^ Idea. 



338 THOMAS BROWNE 

prejudice, nor am averse from that sweet Sex, but naturally- 
amorous of all that is beautiful. I can look a whole day with 
delight upon a handsome Picture, though it be but of an 
Horse. It is my temper, and I like it the better, to affect all 
harmony; and sure there is musick even in the beauty, and 
the silent note which Cupid strikes, far sweeter than the 
sound of an instrument. For there is a musick where ever 
there is a harmony, order, or proportion: and thus far we 
may maintain the music of the Sphears; for those well- 
ordered motions, and regular paces, though they give no 
sound unto the ear, yet to the understanding they strike 
a note most full of harmony. Whatsoever is harmonically 
composed delights in harmony; which makes me much dis- 
trust the symmetry of those heads which declaim against 
all Church-Musick. For my self, not only for my obedience, 
but my particular Genius, I do embrace it: for even that 
vulgar and Tavern-Musick, which makes one man merry, 
another mad, strikes in me a deep fit of devotion, and a 
profound contemplation of the First Composer. There is 
something in it of Divinity more than the ear discovers: it 
is an Hieroglyphical and shadowed lesson of the whole 
World, and creatures of God; such a melody to the ear, as 
the whole World, well understood, would afford the under- 
standing. In brief, it is a sensible fit of that harmony ^vhich 
intellectually sounds in the ears of God. I will not say, with 
Plato, the soul is an harmony, but harmonical, and hath its 
nearest sympathy unto Musick: thus some, whose temper of 
body agrees, and humours the constitution of their souls, 
are born Poets, though indeed all are naturally inclined unto 
Rhythme. This made Tacitus, in the very first line of his 
Story, fall upon a verse ; and Cicero, the worst of Poets, but 
declaiming for a Poet, falls in the very first sentence upon a 
perfect Hexameter. I feel not in me those sordid and un- 
christian desires of my profession; I do not secretly implore 
and wish for Plagues, rejoyce at Famines, revolve Epheme- 
rides^® and Almanacks in expectation of malignant Aspects,^" 
fatal Conjunctions,^" and Eclipses.^" I rejoyce not at un- 
wholesome Springs, nor unseasonable Winters: my Prayer 

^ Tables showing the daily state of the heavens. 
30 Astronomical conditions supposed to presage disaster. 



\ 



RELIGIO MEDICI 339 

goes with the Husbandman's; I desire every thing in its 
proper season, that neither men nor the times be put out of 
temper. Let me be sick my self if sometimes the malady of 
my patient be not a disease unto me. I desire rather to 
cure his infirmities than my own necessities. Where I do 
him no good, methinks it is scarce honest gain; though I 
confess, 'tis but the worthy salary of our well-intended en- 
deavours. I am not only ashamed, but heartily sorry, that, 
besides death, there are diseases incurable: yet not for my 
own sake, or that they be beyond my Art, but for the gen- 
eral cause and sake of humanity, whose common cause I ap- 
prehend as mine own. And to speak more generally, those 
three Noble Professions which all civil Commonwealths do 
honour, are raised upon the fall of Adam, and are not any 
way exempt from their infirmities; there are not only dis- 
eases incurable in Physick, but cases indissolvable in Laws, 
Vices incorrigible in Divinity. If General Councils may err, 
I do not see why particular Courts should be infallible ; their 
perfectest rules are raised upon the erroneous reasons of 
Man, and the Laws of one do but condemn the rules of an- 
other; as Aristotle oft-times the opinions of his Prede- 
cessours, because, though agreeable to reason, yet were not 
consonant to his own rules, and the Logick of his proper 
Principles. Again, (to speak nothing of the Sin against the 
Holy Ghost, whose cure not onely but whose nature is un- 
known,) I can cure the Gout or Stone in some, sooner than 
Divinity, Pride or Avarice in others. I can cure Vices by 
Physick when they remain incurable by Divinity, and shall 
obey my Pills when they contemn their precepts. I boast, 
nothing, but plainly say, we all labour against our own cure; 
for death is the cure of all diseases. There is no Catholicon 
or universal remedy I know, but this; which, though nauseous 
to queasie stomachs, yet to prepared appetites is Nectar, and 
a pleasant potion of immortality. 

X. For my Conversation,^^ it is like the Sun's, with all men, 
and with a friendly aspect to good and bad. Methinks there 
is no man bad, and the worst, best; that is, while they are 
kept within the circle of those qualities wherein they are 
good: there is no man's mind of such discordant and jarring 

31 Intercourse. 



340 THOMAS BROWNE 

a temper, to which a tunable disposition may not strike a 
harmony. MagncB virtutes, nee minora vitia [Great virtues, 
nor less vices] ; it is the posie of the best natures, and may be 
inverted on the worst; there are in the most depraved and 
venemous dispositions, certain pieces that remain untoucht, 
which by an Antiperistasis^^ become more excellent, or by the 
excellency of their antipathies are able to preserve them- 
selves from the contagion of their enemy vices, and persist 
intire beyond the general corruption. For it is also thus in 
nature : the greatest Balsomes do lie enveloped in the bodies 
of most powerful Corrosives.^^ I say, moreover, and I ground 
upon experience, that poisons contain within themselves their 
own Antidote, and that which preserves them from the 
venome of themselves, without which they were not dele- 
terious to others onely, but to themselves also. But it is the 
corruption that I fear within me, not the contagion of com- 
merce^* without me. 'Tis that unruly regiment^" within me, 
that will destroy me; 'tis I that do infect my self; the man 
without a NaveP yet lives in me ; I feel that original canker 
corrode and devour me; and therefore Defenda me Dios 
de me, " Lord deliver me from my self," is a part of my 
Letany, and the first voice of my retired imaginations. There 
is no man alone, because every man is a Microcosm, and car- 
ries the whole World about him. Nunquam minus solujs quam 
cum solus [Never less alone than when alone], though it be 
the Apothegme of a wise man, is yet true in the mouth of a 
fool. Indeed, though in a Wilderness, a man is never alone, 
not only because he is with himself and his own thoughts, 
but because he is with the Devil, who ever consorts with 
our solitude, and is that unruly rebel that musters up those 
disordered motions which accompany our sequestred imagina- 
tions. And to speak more narrowly, there is no such thing 
as solitude, nor any thing that can be said to be alone and 
by itself, but God, Who is His own circle, and can subsist by 
Himself; all others, besides their dissimilary and Hetero- 
geneous parts, which in a manner multiply their natures, can- 
not subsist without the concourse^' of God, and the society of 
that hand which doth uphold their natures. In brief, there 

32 Heightening by contrast. ^ Poisons. ^ Intercourse. 

35 Company of evil impulses. ^ Adam, as not being born of woman. 

^ Cooperation. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 341 

can be nothing truly alone and by it self, which is not truly 
one ; and such is only God : all others do transcend an unity, 
and so by consequence are many. 

XI. Now for my Hfe, it is a miracle of thirty years, which 
to relate, were not a History, but a piece of Poetry, and 
would sound to common ears like a Fable. For the World, 
I count it not an Inn, but an Hospital; and a place not to 
live, but to dye in. The world that I regard is my self; it is 
the Microcosm of my own frame that I cast mine eye on; 
for the other, I use it but like my Globe, and turn it round 
sometimes for my recreation. Men that look upon my out- 
side, perusing only my condition and Fortunes, do err in my 
Altitude ; for I am above Atlas his shoulders. The earth is a 
point not only in respect of the Heavens above us, but of 
that heavenly and celestial part within us: that mass of 
Flesh that circumscribes me, limits not my mind: that sur- 
face that tells the Heavens it hath an end, cannot persuade 
me I have any: I take my circle to be above three hundred 
and sixty; though the number of the Ark^ do measure my 
body, it comprehendeth not my mind: whilst I study to find 
how I am a Microcosm, or little World, I find my self some- 
thing more than the great. There is surely a piece of Di- 
vinity in us, something that was before the Elements, and 
owes no homage unto the Sun. Nature tells me I am the 
Image of God, as well as Scripture : he that understands not 
thus much, hath not his introduction or first lesson, and is 
yet to begin the Alphabet of man. Let me not injure the 
felicity of others, if I say I am as happy as any : Ruat cesium, 
Hat voluntas Tua [Let Thy will be done, though the heavens 
fall] , salveth all ; so that whatsoever happens, it is but what 
our daily prayers desire. In brief, I am content; and what 
should Providence add more? Surely this is it we call 
Happiness, and this do I enjoy; with this I am happy in a 
dream, and as content to enjoy a happiness in a fancy, as 
others in a more apparent truth and realty. There is surely 
a neerer apprehension of any thing that delights us in our 
dreams, than in our waked senses: without this I were un- 
happy; for my awaked judgment discontents me, ever whis- 
pering unto me, that I am from my friend; but my friendly 

* Here, circumference of a circle. 
HC III 22 



342 THOMAS BROWNE 

dreams in the night requite me, and make me think I am 
within his arms. I thank God for my happy dreams, as I do 
for my good rest; for there is a satisfaction in them unto 
reasonable desires, and such as can be content with a fit of 
happiness : and surely it is not a melancholy conceit to think 
we are all asleep in this World, and that the conceits of this 
life are as meer dreams to those of the next; as the Phan- 
tasms of the night, to the conceits of the day. There is an 
equal delusion in both, and the one doth but seem to be the 
embleme or picture of the other : we are somewhat more than 
our selves in our sleeps, and the slumber of the body seems 
to be but the waking of the soul. It is the ligation^ of 
sense, but the liberty of reason ; and our waking conceptions 
do not match the Fancies of our sleeps. At my Nativity my 
Ascendant was the watery sign of Scorpius ; I was born in the 
Planetary hour of Saturn, and I think I have a piece of that 
Leaden Planet in me. I am no way facetious, nor disposed 
for the mirth and galliardize*" of company ; yet in one dream 
I can compose a whole Comedy, behold the action, appre- 
hend the jests, and laugh my self awake at the conceits 
thereof. Were my memory as faithful as my reason is then 
fruitful, I would never study but in my dreams; and this 
time also would I chuse for my devotions: but our grosser 
memories have then so little hold of our abstracted ' under- 
standings, that they forget the story, and can only relate to 
our awaked souls, a confused and broken tale of that that 
hath passed. Aristotle, who hath written a singular Tract 
Of Sleep, hath not, methinks, throughly defined it; nor yet 
Galen, though he seem to have corrected it; for those 
Noctambuloes and night-walkers, though in their sleep, do 
yet injoy the action of their senses. We must therefore say 
that there is something in us that is not in the jurisdiction 
of Morpheus; and that those abstracted and ecstatick souls 
do walk about in their own corps, as spirits with the bodies 
they assume, wherein they seem to hear, see, and feel, though 
indeed the Organs are destitute of sense, and their natures 
of those faculties that should inform them. Thus it is ob- 
served, that men sometimes, upon the hour of their depar- 
ture, do speak and reason above themselves; for then the 

se Binding. *<> Merriment. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 343 

soul, beginning to be freed from the ligaments of the body, 
begins to reason like her self, and to discourse in a strain 
above mortality. 

XII. We term sleep a death; and yet it is waking that 
kills us, and destroys those spirits that are the house of life. 
'Tis indeed a part of life that best expresseth death; for 
every man truely lives, so long as he acts his nature, or some 
way makes good the faculties of himself. Themistocles, 
therefore, that slew his Soldier in his sleep, was a merciful 
Executioner: 'tis a kind of punishment the mildness of no 
laws hath invented : I wonder the fancy of Lucan and Seneca 
did not discover it. It is that death by which we may 
be literally said to dye daily; a death which Adam dyed 
before his mortality; a death whereby we live a middle 
and moderating point between life and death: in fine, 
so like death, I dare not trust it without my prayers, and 
an half adieu unto the World, and take my farwel in a 
Colloquy with God. 

The night is come, like to the day, 
Depart not Thou, great God, away. 
Let not my sins, black as the night, 
Eclipse the lustre of Thy light : 
Keep still in my Horizon ; for to me 
The Sun makes not the day, but Thee. 
Thou, Whose nature cannot sleep. 
On my temples Gentry keep ; 
Guard me 'gainst those watchful foes. 
Whose eyes are open while mine close. 
Let no dreams my head infest, 
But such as Jacob's temples blest. 
While I do rest, my Soul advance ; 
Make my sleep a holy trance ; 
That I may, my rest being wrought. 
Awake into some holy thought; 
And with as active vigour run 
My course, as doth the nimble Sun. 
Sleep is a death ; O make me try. 
By sleeping, what it is to die; 
And as gently lay my head 
On my grave, as now my bed. 
However I rest, great God, let me 
Awake again at last with Thee; 
And thus assur'd, behold I lie 
Securely, or to awake or die. 



344 [THOMAS BROWNE 

These are my drowsie days ; in vain 
I do not wake to sleep again : 
O come that hour, when I shall never 
Sleep again, but wake for ever. 

This IS the Dormative'^ I take to bedward; I need no other 
Laudanum than this to make me sleep; after which I close 
mine eyes in security, content to take my leave of the Sun, 
and sleep unto the Resurrection. 

XIII. The method I should use in distributive Justice,** 
I often observe in commutative;*' and keep a Geometrical 
proportion in both, whereby becoming equable to others, I 
become unjust to my self, and supererogate** in that common 
principle. Do unto others as thou wouldst he done unto thy 
self. I was not born unto riches, neither is it, I think, my 
Star to be wealthy; or, if it were, the freedom of my mind, 
and frankness of my disposition, were able to contradict and 
cross my fates : for to me, avarice seems not so much a vice, 
as a deplorable piece of madness; to conceive ourselves pip- 
kins, or be perswaded that we are dead, is not so ridiculous, 
nor so many degrees beyond the power of Hellebore,*^ as this. 
The opinions of Theory, and positions of men, are not so 
void of reason as their practised conclusions. Some have 
held that Snow is black, that the earth moves, that the Soul 
is air, fire, water; but all this is Philosophy, and there is 
no delirium, if we do but speculate** the folly and indis- 
putable dotage of avarice. To that subterraneous Idol and 
God of the Earth I do confess I am an Atheist; I cannot 
perswade myself to honour that the World adores; whatso- 
ever virtue its prepared substance*' may have within my body, 
it hath no influence nor operation without. I would not 
entertain a base design, or an action that should call me 
villain, for the Indies ; and for this only do I love and honour 
my own soul, and have methinks two arms too few to em- 
brace myself. Aristotle is too severe, that will not allow us 
to be truely liberal without wealth, and the bountiful hand 

^ Sleeping draft. 

*2 Distribution of rewards and punishments according to the desert of each. 
^ The justice which is corrective in transactions between man and man, 
exercised in arithmetical proportion. The distinction is made by Aristotle. 
** Do more than is necessary. *5 Used as a remedy for madness. 
** Consider. *' Gold was commonly used as a medicine. 



RELIGIO MEDICI 345 

of Fortune. If this be true, I must confess I am charitable 
only in my liberal intentions, and bountiful well-wishes; but 
if the example of the Mite be not only an act of wonder, 
but an example of the noblest Charity, surely poor men may 
also build Hospitals, and the rich alone have not erected 
Cathedrals. I have a private method which others observe 
not ; I take the opportunity of my self to do good ; I borrow 
occasion of Charity from mine own necessities, and supply 
the wants of others, when I am in most need my self: for 
it is an honest stratagem to take advantage of our selves, 
and so to husband the acts of vertue, that, where they are 
defective in one circumstance, they may repay their want 
and multiply their goodness in another. I have not Peru*^ in 
my desires, but a competence, and ability to perform those 
good works to which He hath inclined my nature. He is 
rich, who hath enough to be charitable; and it is hard to be 
so poor, that a noble mind may not find a way to this piece 
of goodness. He that giveth to the poor, lendeth to the Lord : 
there is more Rhetorick in that one sentence, than in a 
Library of Sermons; and indeed, if those Sentences were 
understood by the Reader, with the same Emphasis as they 
are delivered by the Author, we needed not those Volumes 
of instructions, but might be honest by an Epitome. Upon 
this motive only I cannot behold a Beggar without relieving 
his Necessities with my Purse, or his Soul with my Prayers ; 
these scenical and accidental differences between us, can- 
not make me forget that common and untoucht part of us 
both: there is under these Centoes^^ and miserable outsides, 
these mutilate and semi-bodies, a soul of the same alloy with 
our own, whose Genealogy is God as well as ours, and in as 
fair a way to Salvation as our selves. Statists that labour 
to contrive a Common-wealth without poverty, take away the 
object of charity, not understanding only the Common- 
wealth of a Christian, but forgetting the prophecie of 
Christ.'" 

XIV. Now, there is another part of charity, which is the 
Basis and Pillar of this, and that is the love of God, for 
Whom we love our neighbour; for this I think charity, to 

*^ A symbol of vast wealth. *^ Masses of patches. 
^ " The poor ye have always with ye." 



346 THOMAS BROWNE 

love God for Himself, and our neighbour for God. All that 
is truly amiable is God, or as it were a divided piece of Him, 
that retains a reflex or shadow of Himself. Nor is it strange 
that we should place affection on that which is invisible : all 
that we truly love is thus ; what we adore under affection of 
our senses, deserves not the honour of so pure a title. Thus 
we adore Virtue, though to the eyes of sense she be in- 
visible: thus that part of our noble friends that we love, is 
not that part that we imbrace, but that insensible part that 
our arms cannot embrace. God, being all goodness, can love 
nothing but Himself; He loves us but for that part which is 
as it were Himself, and the traduction^^ of His Holy Spirit. 
Let us call to assize the loves of our parents, the affection 
of our wives and children, and they are all dumb shows and 
dreams, without reality, truth, or constancy. For first there 
is a strong bond of affection between us and our Parents; 
yet how easily dissolved ! We betake our selves to a woman, 
forget our mother in a wife, and the womb that bare us, in 
that that shall bear our Image. This woman blessing us with 
children, our affection leaves the level it held before, and 
sinks from our bed unto our issue and picture of Posterity, 
where affection holds no steady mansion. They, growing 
up in years, desire our ends; or applying themselves to a 
woman, take a lawful way to love another better than our 
selves. Thus I perceive a man may be buried alive, and be- 
hold his grave in his own issue. 

XV. I conclude therefore, and say, there is no happiness 
under (or, as Copernicus will have it, above) the Sun, nor 
any Crambe^^ in that repeated verity and burthen of all the 
wisdom of Solomon, All is vanity and vexation of Spirit. 
There is no f eHcity in that the World adores. Aristotle, 
whilst he labours to refute the Idea's of Plato, falls upon 
one himself; for his summum honum is a Chimaera, and there 
is no such thing as his Felicity. That wherein God Himself 
is happy, the holy Angels are happy, in whose defect the 
Devils are unhappy, that dare I call happiness: whatsoever 
conduceth unto this, may with an easy Metaphor deserve that 
name ; whatsoever else the World terms Happiness, is to me 
a story out of Pliny, a tale of Boccace or Malizspini, an 

^1 Derivative. ^^ " Tiresome repetition." 



RELIGIO MEDICI 347 

apparition, or neat delusion, wherein there is no more of 
Happiness than the name. Bless me in this life with but 
peace of my Conscience, command of my affections, the love of 
Thy self and my dearest friends, and I shall be happy enough 
to pity Csesar. These are, O Lord, the humble desires of my 
most reasonable ambition, and all I dare call happiness on 
earth; wherein I set no rule or limit to Thy Hand or Provi- 
dence. Dispose of me according to the wisdom of Thy pleas- 
ure : Thy will be done, though in my own undoing. 



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